I'll Follow You Into The Dark
by RosannaStone
Summary: Lacey Grey is a teenager living in the Narrows when she is mugged and left for dead. By a twist of fate, an old aquaintence and The Joker save her life, and neither of them have any intention of letting her go. JOKER/OC
1. The Alley

It all started on a regular day. It was just a normal day- a very normal day in fact, though maybe slightly rainier than most days in Gotham. I took the train home from school like I always did. I got off at Fremont Station and started to walk home. It was still light out, but the tall building packed tightly together caused a bleak effect of perpetual semi-darkness over the city, even in the daytime. It was only four- I skipped going to my usual hangout with my friends in order to get home in time to see my boyfriend. Vinny doesn't go to school. He claims he dropped out to work at the auto shop because school is a load of bull, but I know he's smart enough to graduate, even at seventeen. I'm only a sophomore though, and I can't drop out for at least a few more months on my sixteenth birthday.

The walk home from the station is only about eight minutes, maybe five on a good day. But when prostitutes are leering at you, homeless men are begging for money, and every man and his uncle is wolf-whistling at you, the eight minute walk seems to go on forever. I usually have Vinny walk me home, but his hours are all screwed up because his friend and co-worker Danny is missing. Danny is one of Vinny's friends who works at the auto shop with him. I've spent a lot of time with him because he tends to stay at the apartment sometimes, and he seem like a nice enough guy, if not a little bit shy and reserved. No one has seen him for three days now.

I speed walked the entire way home and finally let out a sigh of relief when I arrived at the door of Vinny's apartment building. I let myself in and went up to room 6C, slamming the door and locking it shut behind me. Vinny's brother owns the apartment, but he's hardly ever here. He's in with some gang or something, so he makes a decent enough living to let Vinny and I stay here. My dad is too drunk to remember he even has a daughter, and my mother would rather not have to pay for me anyway, so I effectively live here.

I only had to watch two episodes of The Nanny before Vinny came through the door. "Lacey, I'm home!" he yelled. I could tell something wasn't right the moment he walked in. "Is everything all right? Is it about Danny- did you find him?" I asked, leading him over to the kitchen table. "We found him, alright," said Vinny. He seemed angry about something. He wasn't acting like someone who's just found their friend again.

"He walked in to the shop this morning, going on and on about this gang he's with now. Some stupid clowns or something? I couldn't understand him… he kept going on and on about someone called the Joker! Danny said that we needed to pay a protection fee to do business here, or the Joker would make trouble for us. Finally the boss came out of his office and agreed to the. Danny didn't even look at me, Lacey, not once. I don't know what type of people he's in with, but it's not good."

"I'm sorry, Vin, but there's nothing we can do. You know how dangerous it is to be in with people- Danny wll have to get out of whatever trouble he's in on his own! I've never heard of the Joker, but I doubt this guy will last long. Don't worry, It'll all be over soon."

2 MONTHS LATER

I was completely wrong about the Joker. He ended up becoming one of the most notorious villains in Gotham's history. He tortured, maimed, killed, exploded- all for no explainable reason. Most of the mob bosses in Gotham are driven by money, power, or greed. The Joker doesn't seem to care for any of these things. He is driven by chaos. I never learned what happened to Danny… until today.

I was walking home from the station. It was late and dark, which is a combination I tried to avoid at all costs but that tended to happen very frequently here in the Narrows. There had been a free concert in the downtown area, and I didn't want to miss it. Vinny was working late- again. This left me all alone, speeding down the streets and praying that I didn't get mugged, raped, or killed. I had a knife on me if worst came to worst. The streets are pretty lively at eight at night, but there are still parts of the Narrows that are endless passages of alleyways that only the worst types of criminals live in. I tried not to look down the alleys and stick to the main roads, but something caught my attention. Only a little ways down the alley I saw a group of men and one of their faces in particular stood out. "Danny?" I asked incredulously, but they were too far away to hear me and turned to head deeper into the alley. I moved into the alley to follow Danny, but suddenly I felt a weight on my shoulders drag me down and spin me to face the wall. I was pinned against the wall, facing a boy who looked only a little older than me. "Give me your wallet!" He whisper-yelled at me. I realize he was relatively new at the whole mugging thing because he didn't just reach into my pocket and grab it himself. I nodded slowly and reached into my pocket, pulling out my wallet- and my knife. I flipped the blade open and lunged at him. He was surprisingly fast, and he dodged me. I tired to stab at him, but he turned my wrist in on me and forced the blade into my stomache.

I gasped in pain and slowly slid down the wall, ending in a heap on the ground. My attacker quickly ran way, obviously ashamed of what he'd done. I was losing blood fast, and I was losing consciousness. I heard someone vaguely familiar yelling my name, and I prayed that Danny had turned around and would save me. The last thing I heard was the sound of multiple footsteps rushing towards me and a dark voice saying, "Wh-_at_ do we have here?"


	2. A Different Kind of Savior

Thank you so much to MadnessIsMe for your review and everyone who read! I am planning to update as soon as possible. This chapter will hopefully have a lot more Joker in it :) So here goes!

Oh and I forgot to o this last chapter…

The Joker, Batman, and Gotham are not mine (unfortunately.) Any original characters like Lacey and Danny are mine (yay!)

I woke up and immediately wished I hadn't. I had a blinding headache and the right side of my abdomen felt like it was on fire. I was lying on a bed, but I could tell t wasn't my own. I cracked open one eye and groaned. I was in a small room, with only one window. It was barred. I tried to sit up and look around, but it hurt like hell. Then it all came rushing back to me- the alley, Danny, and that voice. I had no idea where I was, but I could only hope that Danny had found me and saved me somehow.

After trying multiple times, I was finally able to pull through my pain and sit up in the bed. I looked down at my wound and pulled up my tank top to reveal that someone had stitched up my cut with dark purple thread. I was sure that it was going to get infected, but I had bigger problems out f my mind. Like getting out of wherever the hell I was. The room I was in looked relatively old. Even though it was carpeted, the ground was rock hard and the room was freezing. The only thing in the room was the bed I was sitting on, and even that looked like crap. It was one of those twin sized beds with a metal frame. I stood up with a groan and went over to the only door. I twisted the knob but it was locked. I banged on it in frustration. "Help! Somebody, please! Let me out of here! Get me the hell out!"

No one came to the door, and after a while I got tired of yelling. I sat back down on the bed and fumed over my position. Why was I here? Who had locked me in this room? And where was Danny?

The door opened. In walked one of the scariest men I have ever seen. I recognized him immediately from the He was tall, I could tell that much, but his purple jacket hid the rest of his body. He had stringy hair that looked like it had been dyed green years ago, and his face had been painted white. His eyes were blackened, and his lips were painted cherry red. But it was the scars that really scared me. The scars that were carved across his face like a disfigured smile jumped out at me from all of his features. I could tell that long ago someone- probably him- had tried to sew up his wound, but had made it even worse. My mind immediately went to the scar I had above my hip and the purple stitches I had in it.

"Well hell-o there, doll, "he said, walking towards me. I tried to stand my ground but I could feel myself shrinking back into the wall as he walked closer. "What's your…uh… name, sweetcheeks?" I shook my head, trying to turn away from his face. "LOOK AT ME!" he screamed.

I turned around to face him. I was fed up with this guy, and done with being trapped here. "My name is Lacey Gray, and if you don't get out of my way I'm going to kill you!" I reached into my pocket for my knife to prove my point, but it wasn't there. Joker let out a huge laugh and reached into his pocket. "Looking for this?" he said as he pulled out my knife. All of my previous courage quickly drained from my body. I was sure this was how it was going to end- in a crappy room in the middle of god knows where with a psychopath.

"You wanna know how I got these scars?" He kept on walking towards me until I was flat against the wall and he was standing right over me. The knife in his hand directly to my throat, and I could feel beads of blood coming out from beneath the blade.

"You know…" I said, "I really don't give a damn."

The Joker's smile immediately faded. I feel the blade leave my neck as he pulled away from me. "Good answer," he chuckled as he left the room. I leaned against the wall, on the verge of tears. Now I had one of my questions answered. I was being held here by none other than… the Joker.


	3. Fallen Angel

I spent the next few hours pacing the room. I couldn't shake the thought that at any minute, the Joker could walk into my room and kill me without giving it any thought. I spent the entire time shaking in fear of what would happen to me. Would he just slit my throat, or would he take his time killing me? I was thinking about this when I heard the door open. I prepared myself for the worst and turned around.

"Danny?" He was standing there, leaning against the doorway. He was a little taller than I remembered, and he had a few healing cuts on his face and hands, but it was definitely Danny. Without thinking, I threw myself into his arms. He was surprised at first, but soon he wrapped his arms around me. I broke free of the hug and looked into his eyes. He looked different than when I last saw him crashing at Vinny's apartment a few months ago. It wasn't just his physical differences- there was something sad about his eyes, like he had seen a lot more pain and death in the last few months than he ever wanted to see in a lifetime.

"Danny, what are you doing here? Where have you been? Never mind, we need to get out of here before the Joker comes back. Hurry, Danny, come on!" I tried to pull Danny out the door but he wouldn't move.

"Listen, Lacey, we're not going anywhere. You…might want to sit down." He led me over to the bed and we both sat down on the edge.

"I don't understand…" I said. I wanted to get out of here- now. I had no idea how Danny had gotten past the Joker and whatever guards he had in this building, but if he got in I was hoping we could get out.

"There's something you should know," he said. "I work for the Joker. It started a few months ago… I was out late with some friends who told me about this job that paid good money. I agreed to do it. It turned out to be a job as one of The Joker's henchmen. I wanted out, but I had nowhere to go and I needed the money. He made me go back to the garage and make them pay a protection fee." I remembered that day- the one when I had to walk home alone and Vinny came home, complaining about Danny causing trouble at the garage. "I want to get you out of here, Lacey, I really do, but I have a lot on the line. I may work for him, but if I leave, he knows where my family is. He could kill them just as easily as he could kill you and me. It was all that I could do to convince him save you when you were in the alley. I'm not even allowed to be talking to you. He's gone right now, but if he knew that we were talking- that we even know each other- there's no telling what he might do.

I was shocked at what he told me, but there was one thing he said that caught my attention. "But if he's gone, you could just make it look like I escaped, right? You could say that he left the door unlocked-"

"There are always other men here. And I promise you that they won't be as understanding as me. I will try to protect you and I will visit you when the Jokers not here, but for now I have no other choice. I'm sorry."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, I only knew Danny through Vinny, and we'd only talked a little, but I thought that he would help me. "Please, you have to get me out of here! He will kill me!" I yelled at him.

"I wish I could, I really do. You'll just have to hang in there until I can find some way to fix this. I promise, I'll get you out of here somehow." He turned around and walked out of the room, locking the door behind him.


	4. Stitches

Thanks to EmberlyneRiddle, MyChemicalNightmare, and kykyxstandler for their reviews. I promise there is some romance in this chapter (finally!). I just wanted to lay down the plot before I got into the details ;) I appreciate any suggestions as to what direction this story should go in or anything else you have to say. Thanks and enjoy!

I spent hours just sitting on the bed. My mind was racing at first. Thoughts about Vinny, Danny, and the Joker swirled in my head. I could only think for so long, though. Soon I began to get bored. I did everything humanly possible to avoid boredom. I made lists of pointless things in my head, I tried to pry open the bars on the window, I drummed out the beats for old show tunes on the door in hopes of annoying whoever the hell was out there- I did everything and anything! Soon I ran out of things to do and resigned to my bed where I stared counted the dots in the ceiling tiles. I was just getting into it when I heard the lock click on the door and saw it swing open. The Joker was standing there in the doorway. He wasn't quite as scary as the first time I saw him, but he still had the scars and the makeup and the hair and the suit that made me shiver in fear no matter what mood he was in.

He walked into the room and shut the door firmly behind him. I said my prayers as he walked towards me. He stood directly over the bed, smiled, and reached into his pocket to pull out… a needle and thread? He giggled maniac when he saw my surprised expression. "What were you expecting me to pull out of my pocket-ah?" he was still laughing at his own sick joke when I saw him reach into his pocket again, but this time he came up with a knife. It had a straight edge and a pointy tip that looked like it could kill a person without any problem. The relief I had felt mere seconds ago vanished with the sight of the blade.

He inched closer to me. This time I was sitting on the bed- I saw no way I could get away, no way I could even attempt to protect myself. I decided that I would spend my final minutes with dignity. I did not shrink away from him. I did not scream even though my throat was on fire, and I did not cry even though there were tears burning in my eyes. I didn't even make a sound when he came to the bed and straddled me, pinning my body under his weight. It was only when he began to lift up my shirt that fought back. I squirmed under his body and tried to free my arms or legs, but he had full control now.

I was surprised when he only lifted up my shirt a little to reveal my wound by my right hip. Then he put the knife to my skin, leaned in and whispered, "This might, ah, hurt a little…" One by one he placed the blade under a stitch in my cut and sliced the threads. He pulled each of the threads out of my skin and ran his fingers over the wound. I couldn't help but shiver when his cold gloves hit my skin. My movement seemed to bring him back to reality.

"Now here's just a little something to say, ah, that you belong to me now," he said. My eyes widened in fear ad he brought the blade back to my skin. This time he cut- deep. I screamed in pain as he carved me, and he sat there on top of me, laughing like a maniac. When he was done, he stood up to admire his handiwork. I looked down and saw what he had done. There was a lot of blood, but two dark lines could be seen. The first was the horizontal wound I had been given by the mugger in the alley. The Joker had split it open again so that the scar was just as new as before. Under this, he had craved a long line that curved up at the end. I couldn't tell what it was at first, but then I realized that he had carved the letter "J" into my skin.

"Do you like it? It's one of my best carvings yet, except for my face, of course! Ha!" he let out a quick laugh before looking at me for my response. "Go to hell," was all I could manage, but under the circumstances I felt it conveyed my feelings for him in the quickest way possible. A dark shadow fell over his face, and he stopped laughing. "Ya know, I don't think it really looks that good. I could really work on my, ah, handwriting couldn't I? Maybe, on your face?"

I swallowed hard and looked at him, weighing my options. I had a number of things I wanted to say to him, but I correctly deduced that most of them would get me killed. So for once I tried to please him. "No, it's great, I promise, you don't need to do it anymore!" I begged. He smiled and said, "Now that's better! Why can't we all just get along, Lacey?"

He stood up and started to pace around the room, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. My eyes followed him, but my brain was paying attention to more important things such as the amount of blood I was losing from the J he had cut into me. I tried to slow the bleeding by putting pressure on it, but it just hurt the wound even more. I let out a gasp of pain and the Joker turned to look at me. He seemed to have a quick internal battle with his conscience before he groaned and sat down on the bed, patting his knee. I was confused as to what to do- did he seriously want me to drag my bleeding body over to his side of the bed so I could sit on his fricken knee? He rolled his eyes at the quizzical look I gave him and reached over to pull my body onto his lap. Once he did that he reached into his seemingly limitless coat pocket and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic, a needle and thread, and some bandages. He got to work cleaning my wound and stitching me up. He worked slowly and surprisingly he was…gentle. I felt myself slowly drifting away, only kept awake by the pain of my wound. I realized that I hadn't slept in almost twenty four hours. That, combined with the fact that I hadn't had anything to eat or drink in who knows how long made me lose consciousness right then and there. I drifted in and out of dreams and reality. One minute I was home with Vinny, the next I was being rolled off of the Joker's legs and softly laid on the bed. I was hugging Vinny, and then I felt something cold being laid over me, probably a bedsheet. One minute I was dreaming I was kissing Vinny, and the next I felt someone's lips touch my own. I kept my eyes closed and didn't react. I desperately wished I was still dreaming, but I knew that someone had actually kissed me. And the only person who was in this room was the Joker. I stayed still even through this realization. He obviously thought I was asleep, because I had never seen this side of him. This kiss was real- I could feel it. And it was one of the best kisses I had ever received. My stomach dropped but my body shivered in delight at the same time. I wished that I could kiss him back, that I could open my eyes and hold him and kiss him back- what was I thinking? Why the hell was I fantasizing about kissing this psychopathic murderer? What was wrong with me? I knew the answer to all of these questions. There was something undeniably attractive about him, there was no denying that, but it was something deeper. I loved the way he had care for my wounds, even though he was the one who had inflicted him. The way that he could go from hot to cold in one second flat, the way that he kept me guessing. And as to what was wrong with me? I was mugged, stabbed, kidnapped, stitched up, almost killed, discovered that my boyfriend's best friend works for a murderer, unstitched, cut, and re-stitched, all without food or water in a 24 hour period. There were obviously a lot of things wrong with me right now, and quite frankly, getting kissed by a criminally insane clown didn't make my top five on the list.

I felt him pull away from the kiss and leave the room, locking the door behind him. I sat up immediately, my mind reeling. I had thought about all of the reasons why I let him kiss me- but I hadn't even begun to ask why he had done it in the first place.


	5. Accidents Happen

Special thanks to wolves-rain-chick and Moonlight calls for reviewing! Very special thanks go to Foxotr, who is pretty much amazing! I appreciate everyone's feedback and will try to include as much of what you suggest in my writing. I will definitely try to watch the typos; unfortunately my spell check doesn't seem to catch everything, but I will try to be typo-less from here on out.

This chapter will be a lot more about Danny, but I can definitely promise kissing and gunshots and some Joker. Enjoy!

* * *

I do not own Batman, the Joker, or any other associations with the Batman franchise.

After spending somewhere between a few minutes and a few hours thinking about the kiss, I remembered more important things, such as food and water. I hadn't eaten in what I guessed was almost twenty four hours and I sure hadn't had anything to drink since then either. I walked over to the door and hammered on it, loud enough so that whoever was out there could hear me.

"Hello? Can anyone hear me? I'm a human, jerks, I need food! Come on, open up!" I pounded savagely on the door. I even began kicking it. When neither of those sufficed, I grabbed a folding chair from the corner and started smashing the door with all my might. Suddenly the door swung open. The Joker was standing in the door way with a smile that did not totally match his mood. My face turned red as he let out a laugh in my face. I probably looked a little comical with a folding chair raised above my head, but I was not in a joking mood. I was remembering the kiss, and even though he thought I had been asleep, I was wondering if he was thinking of it too. I cleared my throat and snapped out of my reverie.

"Umm… it might come as a surprise to you, but I am a human. And I have needs. Like food, and water, and a bathroom, preferably with a shower, and a change of clothes. Because I am a hostage and you need to keep me alive…. Right?"

"Who ever said you were a hostage-ah?" He said, crossing his arms and giving me a death glare. I tried to come up with a witty retort, but the only one thing came to mind.

"_Who ever said you were a hostage_?" Oh great. I had done it. I had just mimicked the Joker like a fricken second grader. To my surprise he burst out cackling, and doubled over in fits of laughter. It took him an entire minute to straighten back up and subside to a chuckle, time which I used to wonder, "I'm really being held here by this dysfunctional guy? Really?"

He stopped laughing suddenly and looked me straight in the eye. "Let's get one thing straight between us. You are not a- uh, what'd you call it- hostage. You are a guest. You are free to leave and go on your merry way any time you would like."

"Really?" I asked, my head snapping up and a smile spreading across my face.

"Really, sweetcheeks. Oh wait, I forgot something… if you leave I'll have to kill you. But other than that you're free to go. Ha!" He started chuckling at his own joke. I was starting to get pissed. I knew that I couldn't punch him in the face or he would kill me, so I calmed my annoyance by mentally flipping him off. That felt better.

"So, I guess we're stuck with each other for a while, huh? In that case, you can have some food, a bathroom, and some water, and a change of clothes, and a shower, though not necessarily in that order." On that note he left me and locked the door to the room.

"Yeah, uh, when is all of this gonna happen?" I screamed after him, but I heard his footsteps thumping away down the hall. I sat down on my bed and hung my head, exhausted from talking to a psycho.

Just when I was about to give up hope of ever having food again, I heard the door open and I looked up to see Danny and –wait, no, it couldn't be! Was that… a hamburger? My mouth started watering as the smell of meat drifted through the air.

"Danny, I think you just saved my life!" I rushed over to him and grabbed the to-go bag out of his hand, then sat down on the bed to eat my burger. I practically shoved the food down my throat. I looked up mid-bite to see Danny awkwardly standing by the door. He wasn't allowed to leave while the door was unlocked, so he was forced to watch me eat my burger. I patted the spot next to me on the bed and motioned for him to come over.

"Here, have some, ummm….fries!" I said in an attempt to be friendly. I rummaged around in the to-go bag and realized it was a happy meal when I found a very small pack of fries and chocolate milk in the bag. Wow, a happy meal. Someone had a great sense of humor.

"Thanks," Danny said when I handed him the fries. We spent the rest of my lunch (or whatever the hell time of day it was) in silence. There isn't a lot to say to your boyfriend's ex friend who's helping to hold you against your will with some creepy madman. When I was done Danny stood up and motioned for me to do the same.

"I'm gonna lead you to the bathroom now, ok? You will not run, you will not leave my side. You will have three minutes to use the restroom. I will be right outside. And… there's something else they told me to say… ah... never mind I can't remember. Just don't be trouble." Danny grabbed me by the arm and led me out of the room.

The hall my room was off of turned out to be a balcony or catwalk of sorts on the second floor. It overlooked what was obviously an abandoned warehouse. Men were sprawled on mismatched furniture in the middle of the space, crowded around a small and outdated TV, or otherwise checking their supplies of various weapons. I could tell that the room I was being held in had once been an office for the boss to look at his warehouse from. Down the hall a little ways there was a bathroom. Danny led me into it, and I closed the door behind me. I finally got to use the bathroom. I splashed some cold water on my face and looked in the mirror above the sink. It was not a pretty sight. I had dirt smudged across my left cheek, and my blue eyes had dark circles under them. My normally long, brown curls were disheveled and tangled, and even my tan skin seemed to be a little pale. I cracked open the door and looked at Danny out in the hall. He had a gun in his hands and was deciding where to put it. He obviously had no idea. He decided that tucking it into his front waistband would be the best idea. I felt sorry for him. He obviously wasn't used to this lifestyle. He didn't want to hurt people. He especially didn't want to hurt me.

It only took me a few seconds after I realized this to devise a plan. I knew what I had to do. I needed a gun to get out of here, and Danny had the only gun I could get to. I knew I was no physical match for him, but maybe I emotionally compromised him, I could get the gun- somehow. Step one: distract him enough to get the gun. Step two: devise a way to get all of the men out of the warehouse so I could easily make my escape. Step three: force Danny to help me out of the warehouse and drive me home. I was hoping that when my plan was all said and done, I would be able to get myself and Danny out unharmed. I knew that he would be reluctant to help me any other way because of fear of backlash from the Joker. I had to force him to help me somehow.

I stepped out of the bathroom and Danny led me back to my room. My plan was forming faster and faster, and when Danny put me in the room and began to leave, I knew I had to act fast. I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards me. He spun around in surprise to face me as I pulled him closer.

"Listen, you've done a lot for me since I got here," I said, trying to be as seductive as I could. Believe me, it's hard to be seductive when you are sleep and shower deprived, but I tried to make it work. "I just wanted to… thank you." I lifted my hand to his face and brushed my fingers along his cheekbone. I had seen it somewhere in a movie and it had look incredibly sexy at the time. Now it seemed kind of weird, so I just settled on leaning forward to kiss him. Surprisingly, he leaned in, too. It caught me off guard- I had thought that it would take a lot more time and effort to seduce him. But he was working in a mostly male job, so who was I to judge?

Our lips met and we began kissing, slowly at first but then more feverishly. I didn't feel anything when I kissed him. It was like making out with someone on a dare. I wasn't emotionally invested, and that's the only thing that kept y mind on the plan, because Danny was a damn good kisser! I let my hands slip down his back and trailed my finger around to his abs. I felt cold metal and knew I had located the gun. I pushed away from Danny with all my might and grabbed the gun from out of his waistband. It took me a few seconds to get it pointed the right way and all, but I ended up with a very deadly gun in my hands pointed at a very stunned Danny.

"Danny, I don't want to have to use this, but you need to listen to me now. I am going to get out of here, and you are going to help me. Understand?" Danny nodded slowly, the realization of what I had just done slowly sinking in. With a gun, I had the upper hand in every way possible. Step one complete.

"Is the Joker gone?" I asked. He nodded at this also. "Now you are going to walk out the door, go onto the balcony, and tell all the men down there that the Joker needs their help- something that would make all of them leave. Got it?"

Danny quickly regained his ability to speak. "Lacey, you don't have to do this, you know that if either of us escape he'll kill our families, the ones we love, the people who we cared for at any time in our lives-"

"You aren't thinking straight! You can leave Gotham, you can leave so he'll never find you. You can walk out the door anytime, but I need your help if I'm ever gonna get out of here. Think about Vinny, how happy he'll be to see both of us again. You have to do what I say now. I have the gun. So go tell the men to leave!"

I stood in the room, the gun trained on Danny's back while he walked out onto the balcony and began yelling at the men downstairs. He said something about the Joker needing their help with Batman down at the docks. After a few minutes of shouting and scuffling, I walked out on the balcony next to Danny to see that all the men had left. Step two complete.

"Good job. Now, slowly walk down the stairs and show me where the main door is," I commanded. I held the gun far away from me, but I still kept it trained on Danny. We walked down the stairs and into the middle of the room. That's when I heard the voice.

"Going somewhere?" The Joker asked, stepping out from a shadow in the corner of the warehouse. I pointed the gun at him, then swung it back to Danny, and then back to the Joker. I decided the clown posed a bigger threat to me at this point. Danny began to explain to his boss why I was holding a gun, but was cut off mid sentence.

"Ya know, I think you really have the upper hand in this situation, Lace-face. Here we are, completely defenseless, while you have a gun. So why don't you shoot? I, uh, _dare_ you to." His tone was so arrogant and annoying that I trained the gun on the Joker head and pulled the trigger.

Instead of dropping dead, the Joker cracked up. I pulled the trigger a few more times, but nothing happened.

"It helps to load the weapon!" he chuckled. I threw the useless gun to the ground in frustration. My eyes widened as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. It was bigger and shinier than Danny's gun, and I would bet good money that it was loaded. He threw it casually from one hand to the other as he talked to me.

"You know, the thing I hate about guns is that they're so…impersonal. You can't see the little emotions on a person's face when you kill them. It's just- BANG! And they're dead. Guns are also bigger than knives... harder to hide-uh! And they are just so unpredictable. You have to be so careful with them." Without warning he raised the gun and pointed it at Danny's head.

"Accidents happen." He pulled the trigger and the gun went off. The bullet hit Danny square in the chest, and he immediately crumpled to the ground.

Oops," he laughed. "Kinda like that!" He turned away from the dying man as if he wasn't interested, then pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Hello? Where'd you guys go? No, I'm not at the docks, I'm at the warehouse! Yeah, I need a cleanup crew on aisle five, we have a dead body here..." He walked away from Danny and me, leaving me to walk over to Danny and roll him over. I listened for a heartbeat. I couldn't hear anything, so after a few minutes I closed his eyelids as a sign of respect. I looked down at his face and saw that he looked strangely peaceful, and finally the tears I had been holding back for hours spilled over.


	6. Broken

Thank you to everyone who reviewed- I can't tell you how much they all mean to me! Special thanks to my "regulars", the readers who review every chapter:)

I went back through the story and tried to fix as many typos as I could. I noticed that I got a lot of comments about typos, so I just wanted to make the story easier to read. Thanks again for reading, and if anyone has any suggestions or ideas pertaining to the plot, I would enjoy them very much.

So... I think that's about it! Happy Turkey Day:)

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There's something I learned a long time ago: when someone dies, life goes on. It used to be easy for me to accept these lies. Easy to move on after a few weeks or so when another school friend was killed in a mugging or shooting. Easy to go on with my day, my week, my months, my year, and continue on like nothing had ever happened.

That was before I saw Danny die.

When the Joker shot him, I saw something in his eyes. Fear, anger, and hatred were replaced with something that looked like… disappointment. Like maybe I had let him down, like maybe the world had let him down, because when his life was supposed to be beginning, it was coming to a complete and dramatic end. Maybe it was disappointment that he ever got involved with the Joker in the first place. Maybe it was disappointment that I had accepted his trust, even maybe his love, and then turned on him by holding a gun to his head. Maybe it was disappointment that we didn't somehow escape, that we didn't leave this place together and never look back.

I might have just been disappointment that it had to end like this- on a slab of cold concrete in the middle of an abandoned warehouse, with a shot in the chest from a guy who didn't give a damn. When the light went out of his eyes and his body went limp, I knew there wouldn't be a time when I would forget about Danny.

As the Joker walked away, talking on the phone to someone, I prayed that what I was about to do wasn't wrong. I made sure that the Joker had left the room before I started to search Danny's pockets. I started with his coat pocket and was immediately rewarded; there was a small switchblade in the left one. I slipped it in my pocket. Then I took his hand and folded them across his stomach, and moved his legs so that they weren't so crooked. It reminded me of how my uncle Mac looked at his funeral, all stiff and cold, but at least he looked peaceful. There was something in Danny's face that didn't look quite so peaceful, and I knew that his face would never leave my mind.

In a few minutes I heard deep voices and the sounds of slamming doors and pounding feet. I knew that the Joker's men had returned. The footsteps grew nearer until I saw a few men standing directly over Danny and me.

"Norgard, Staton, you know the drill. Stanton, get the body. Norgard, get the tarp and the supplies out of the van. And someone get this girl off of him!" he commanded. I looked up to see a very scary man barking orders at two other slightly less scary men. He was frightening in a different way than the Joker. The Joker produced a kind of psychological fear- this guy was purely physical. Dressed in dark clothes and a leather jacket, he was tall and muscular, with dark tattoos running up his arms and stopping just short of his neck. He was no doubt attractive, but any handsome features he had were distorted by the dark look in his eyes.

"So this is the girl he's been talking about." The man crouched down beside me, and then used his index finger to draw my chin up to him. "Well you're sure pretty, aren't you?"

I turned my head away from him and muttered, "Get the hell away from me."

"Oh, this one's got a mouth on her!" he joked to Stanton and Norgard. They both rolled their eyes. They had more important things to do then look at me, such as cleaning up a dead body and hoping that theirs wasn't going to be the next to be rolled out of the warehouse.

"What do you say you come with me, and then we can really see what your mouth can do?" he taunted, grabbing my wrists and pulling me up. I screamed and tried to run, but he had a tight grip on me and ended up throwing my entire body over his shoulder. He walked into one of the downstairs rooms- what looked to be an old lounge area with an overused couch and a big glass coffee table- and shut the door behind him.

He flipped me over onto the couch and then hastily unzipped my jacket. With so many men living in one female free area, I knew that this could have been a possibility. I just didn't know how to react to it when it happened. Screaming my head off seemed to be getting me nowhere, so I stopped and began to cry. This didn't even faze the guy. He pulled off my shirt and jeans within the next minute, and that's when I really began to struggle.

"Please, don't do this please, you don't have to-"

"Shut up!" he yelled. He raised his hand to hit me across the face. The force of his blow made my head snap back, and I could feel my flesh burning in pain. I screamed again, wishing that someone, anyone, would hear me. I wished that Vinny, even Danny had been there the save me. I even had a sudden thought that the Joker would save me. Maybe he would burst through the door and kill the guy, rescuing me from the big bad thug.

All of my wild hopes slipped from my mind when he began to kiss me. It was rough and sloppy and I could feel my lips being painfully pried open by his tongue. When he finally entered my mouth, I bit his tongue. When he yelped and drew back, I suddenly remembered the knife in my back pocket. I worked my hand out from under him, pulled it out, and stabbed him in his right arm. `I had tried with all of my might to pierce his skin all the way to the bone, but unfortunately, but I had very little momentum and only succeeded in leaving a gash in his bicep. He yelled out in alarm, but quickly twisted the knife out of my hand and threw it across the room.

I shrunk back onto the couch, knowing that the only defense I had left was my own two hands. I started punching at him as soon as he got within reach, but I could tell they had very little effect on him. He was a tough guy, and I doubted that a few weak punches and a bleeding arm were going to keep him down. With the only strength I had left, I pushed him backwards. He tripped backwards over the glass coffee table and landed on it with a crash, smashed the glass, and fell through the table. I looked down to see him writhing on the ground in pain. Little shards of glass stuck out of his body, and one huge piece of glass was lodged firmly between his ribcage and his stomach. I had a feeling that he wouldn't be getting up again anytime soon, but I could still hear him breathing and cursing at me from the ground.

I walked over to the corner to grab the now-bloody knife, and turned it over in my hands. I debated killing the man on the ground. He had tried to rape me, after all. I knew he was going to die soon, but there was something about holding a knife in my hand that made me feel a little…impatient. I stood directly over him with the knife in my hands, and watched as fear spread across his features. I made my choice. I leaned over and stabbed him in the heart, making sure the blade went as deep as I could push it. He took a few more labored breaths, and then went limp.

"Ha. Ha ha HA! Bravo! I have to say, that was -uh- quite a show, kid." The Joker was leaning in the open doorway. He mockingly clapped at me while doubled over in laughter. "What with the knife and the glass and the smashing and the blood, I have to say I enjoyed it. The end was…electrifying! Not the way I would have done it, though. If I had killed him, it would have taken a lot longer and been a lot more, more… entertaining."

"You were there the entire time?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah… no, actually, but I, uh, I think I see everything I need to know what happened," he laughed.

I was about to answer back when I became painfully aware that I was standing over a dead guy in my underwear, holding a bloody knife.

"What, did you get bored and want to kill someone, or did you just walk in on him like this?"

"He fricken tried to-"I broke off in tears for the second time that day. I awkwardly sidestepped over to my jeans, which were still over by the couch. My hands were shaking as I pulled them on.

The smile immediately slid off the Jokers face. His eyes snapped back up to me. Something about me had caught his attention, and I looked down self-consciously. He wasn't looking at my partially clothed chest. But rather what was all over it. His "J" wasn't the only wound I had on me. Dark purple and yellow bruises decorated my stomach and ribs, and a few bruises trailed up to my collarbone. I had a particularly dark bruise on my right forearm, where I could see the faint shape of a handprint. He looked at the small scars I had all over my body, and the large burn scar I had on my forearm.

I could practically see him thinking, calculating. Sure, he had probably caused a few bruises, and I had a few small cut from the glass table, but that didn't account for all of the other marks on my skin. I crossed my arms and turned away from his intense stare.

"Where'd you get those scars- ah? I know a great story when I see one," He said. His joking tone was gone, and there was a certain angry edge to his tone, like he was mad at me for some reason.

"Why do you care?" I spat at him. I eyed my hoodie sticking out from under the dead guy and swore under my breath. Dead guy had luckily missed my shirt, so I grabbed it and pulled it over my head as fast as I could.

"I don't really care, persay, I just thought it would be nice to make conversation. That's what polite people do, right? Hmm? They… talk, they converse. But it's rude to avoid a question. And you know, people tend to be very polite to me. It's always '_please _don't hurt me'. Like being polite will, uh, actually save them or something? HA!" he laughed at his own joke, which I made a note to tell him wasn't all that good. I was sick of him being bipolar, asking a serious question one second then spewing out a monologue the next.

"It's just none of your business," I said coldly. I wanted to run out of the room, but I was trapped on the far wall because of my bare feet and the glass that littered the floor. The Joker was not happy with this answer. He marched over to where I was and grabbed me by the shoulders to push me against the wall.

"TELL ME!" he demanded, his eyes wild and his voice dangerously low.

"Ok, ok, fine, just let me _rest_ for a second please! I am tired and hungry and thirsty and cold and Danny just dies and I just killed a guy who almost raped me and you are a fricken sociopath. Forgive me if I don't feel like doing every little thing you say at this point in time!" I yelled at him. Shit. That one probably cost me my life.

Instead, a smile spread across his face.

"You know, you really need some calm in your life. Some tai-chi, yoga, ya know? It would really help you relax-ah, enjoy the… funny side of things."

He suddenly made a move at me and I shrunk back in fear, but he didn't stab me or hit me or anything else I normally associated with him. Instead he put one arm under my arms and the other under my legs and picked me up bridal style. He wordlessly carried me across the glass and out of the room, but he didn't set me down there. He carried me across the main area, past where Norgard was cleaning blood off the floor (Danny had already been moved) and by a group of men playing cards, and up the stairs. We passed by my old room to a room at the end of the hall. He kicked open the door and unceremoniously dropped me on a black king sized bed in the middle of the large room. He turned to leave, but remembered something and turned back to me.

"When I get back, you're going to answer my question. Might I suggest, uh, starting your story with, 'Wanna know how I got these scars?' It's always been very… effective." With a loud laugh and a mocking wave good-bye, he left, slamming the door behind him.


	7. More Than You Bargained For

I sat up on the bed and looked around. The room was mostly bare except for the bed, a window, a dark wardrobe in one corner, and a desk with a chair pushed up against the wall. I got up and walked over to the desk. For the first time that day, I realized how much everything hurt. My knife wound was still stinging, my body was sore and covered in bruises, and I had a blinding headache.

I reached the desk and saw dozens of papers strewn across it. There were thick files that looked to be criminal records. A few papers had messy notes scrawled across them in black ink. I tried to read them, but the writing would change size and direction and even double back on itself. One paper had "HA HA HA" finger-painted across it in reddish-brown paint. I gasped in horror as I realized it was dried blood. I flung it across the desk and continued through the pile.

There were newspaper clippings spread out across the desk. Most of them said something to the effect of "The Joker Strikes Again" and "Batman: Vigilante or Villain?" One in particular caught my eye. It was an article about a fundraiser that Bruce Wayne was throwing for Harvey Dent. The latter's name was circled in red pen, as was the date. If I had my days correct, the party was tonight. I vaguely wondered what the Joker would want with a guy like Dent- by all accounts they were complete opposites.

There was a thick file with "Employment" stamped across the front. I was curious as to why the Joker would even bother to keep track of his workers when they were… "fired" so often. The first page was on a man named Jared Winters. I saw his picture and recognized him as they guy I just killed. I flipped the page quickly- I didn't want to think about him. The next few pages had photos and arbitrary information about some of the workers I had seen downstairs. One of them caught my eyes- it was Danny.

The photo was the one on that he used as his work photo at the auto shop where he used to work. I recognized it from the "employee of the month" signs I used to see all the time in the shop. His file didn't say very much. It was written in the almost illegible handwriting of the Joker. Danny's page had only a few words written on it, but what I read made my jaw drop.

**Direct Connection to Lacey Gray, Contact Reached**

I reached out to touch the words, as if feeling them would make them more real. What did "Direct connection" mean?

I heard footsteps down the hall, so I threw the paper back onto the desk and flung myself into the bed just in time to see the door open.

"You can't find someone to get rid of a body these days- you gotta do everything for yourself!" The Joker announced loudly, throwing off his jacket and sitting in the desk chair. He spun around in his chair like a three year old, practically ecstatic about the deaths that had just occurred.

I silently sat on the bed processing everything that had happened that day. I couldn't believe everything I had just seen. My reaction was obviously not the one the Joker wanted to see.

"Why so serious, Lacey baby? Are you up-_set _I killed your… lover?" his lips twisted around the word like it made him amused and sick at the same time. "Yeah, I saw him kissing you earlier. You really seemed to enjoy it didn't you, babe?"

"Danny was not my "lover". I have a boyfriend, you know. I just had to distract Danny to get the gun." I scoffed.

"You have a boyfriend? Would he happen to be the one who, ah, did this to you?" He motioned towards my body, where a few of my bruises were peeking out of my shirt from my collarbone. I self-consciously drew my knees up to my body and looked away. The Joker had stopped spinning in his chair and was now leaning forward with his hands propped up underneath his chin. It reminded me of a messed up version of "The Thinker", one with a messed up smirk and endless eyes. At the same time, it made the Joker look… attractive. Or at least intriguing. I realized I had been staring at him for a few seconds too long, so I cleared my throat to answer.

"It's not his fault. Sometimes he gets home and I don't have dinner ready, or I'll party for too long. You can't really blame him… I know I should do what he says, but sometimes I slip up and I deserve to get punished."

The Joker' eyes had been growing darker and darker as I talked, and when I finished he even began to shake his head. He seemed to remember his self, so he stood up and leered over me.

"You see this… this scar, here?" he lifted to corner of my shirt to reveal his "J". I shrunk away from him, but he held my shirt in place. "This means that you are mine, and no one can touch you. I thought I made it clear when Danny boy stuck his tongue down your throat and I killed him, but apparently no-_t_. You. Are. Mine. Now. Understood?" He roughly grabbed my chin and forced me to look in his eyes. Why was he being so protective of me? It reminded me of the piece of paper I had seen on his desk." Direct contact to Lacey Grey". It was all becoming more confusing by the second. What exactly did the Joker want with me? I was beginning to suspect that my abduction in the alley was not chance. There was something going on here. And I needed to find out what it was before I got in too deep.


	8. Revelations

The Joker sat back down at his desk and began to write things down on pieces of paper. I couldn't really see over his shoulder without leaving the bed, so instead I tried to sit up on my knees to get a look at his paper. He looked over his shoulder and cleared his throat, so I backed off and sat against the headboard of the bed, contemplating my predicament. All that I knew was that the Joker seemed to have some type of interest in me, even though I had no idea what it was. I flashed back to the day when the Joker had kissed me, and realized that maybe his obsession was deeper than I realized.

He stood up and looked over at me, the disturbed look still in his eyes.

"Stay here. You do not move unless I tell you too. _Do you understand?" _ he asked. I nodded slowly and leaned back on the bed, waiting for him leave so I could read the rest o the files on his desk. He seemed to realize that I had been spending a little too much time staring his papers, so he grabbed as many papers as he could and dumped them into the desk drawer, then took a key out of his pocket and locked the drawer. I crossed my arms at him, but he just licked his lips and smiled.

"Mine. No touchy. Now I have to go get ready for a party, and I'm… ah… looking for the guest of honor. You're my plus one, by the way, so I would recommend trying on the dress in the wardrobe. You can't exactly go dressed like this, now can you?" I shook my head again as he left the room and locked the door behind him. I started towards the wardrobe, but then I remembered the files in the desk drawer. I examined the lock and noticed it was relatively low security, something I could open with a bobby pin. I luckily had one still tangled in my hair, so I pulled it out and began to work on the desk.

After a few minutes of jiggling the lock, it finally sprung open. I greedily threw the paper across the bed and tried to organize them as best I could. I looked though the employment file again, but I only saw Danny's name and the "direct connection" comment. I looked at all of the other papers but couldn't find anything. I angrily yanked open the desk drawer all the way and dumped it upside down on the bed so that I could go through every last paper. Then I saw the bottom of the desk drawer.

Newspaper articles, notes, files, paychecks, receipts, almost every type of document I had ever seen was taped, nailed, and stapled to the bottom of the desk drawer. All of the papers were connected by multiple threads of the purple string The Joker had used to stitch me up.

It took me almost twenty minutes to look over all of the documents, but I finally pieced it all together. There were multiple documents about my parents, James and Felicia Grey. There were a few little newspaper articles about them, including one report of a domestic disturbance at our old apartment, and a mug shot of my dad when he got his DUI. I rolled my eyes at the photo and continued on following the lines of the thread. My parent's information was connected to my picture in the middle of the whole thing, but that wasn't the only thing I saw.

My birth certificate was attached to my name, and my parent's names weren't the ones listed on the certificate. Instead, I saw Harvey Dent and Diana Maroni's signatures on my birth certificate. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was the love child of Gotham's white knight and the wife of Gotham's most feared drug lord. I looked over the other papers- mostly adoption forms that made sure that Dent and Maroni were not legally tied to me and big fat paychecks from both of them to make sure that their secret was safe with the Greys.

I realized how much this all must have thrilled the Joker. Gotham's DA had an affair with a drug lord's wife, and then hid his child, me, in the Narrows with a couple who obviously wasn't the best candidate for parents of the year. If the Joker revealed this, he could essentially ruin Dent's reputation, and destroy the public's faith in him. He would be just another corrupt politician to joke about, a fallen hero that never even rose all that far anyway.

After a few more papers of reading I realized that he Joker had been keeping track of me. There were a few pictures of me outside Vinny's apartment, a few with me and Danny and Vinny at the auto shop, and even one if me waiting by a bus stop. There had been a plan all along to get me. Being saved by Danny in the alley wasn't coincidence- it was all part of the plan. The article I had seen earlier about the fundraiser for Dent was happening tonight, and I was willing to bet that The Joker planned on revealing his love child to everyone at the party.

"So, did you figure it all out yet? It took you a lot less time to piece it together than I thought it would, but you gotta give me credit, I practically just _left_ all the clues for you, doll face." The Joker's voice made me shiver. I realized that he had opened the door without a sound, and that I was standing over all of his files. There was no getting out of this one.

"Why did you take me? I know you got to Danny to find me, and I know that you know exactly who I am. What do you want from me?" I screamed at him.

"Listen, Lacey, here's the thing. I'll admit that I took you because of Dent and the ruining of his reputation and what not, _but, _I had some ulterior motives. You, you captivate me, doll-face. And that's just a truth I can't deny!" He was laughing his head off, and doing the annoying thing where I couldn't tell if he was joking or he was serious.

"Just stop it! God, shut the hell up!" I screamed. I was on the verge of a breakdown, but I couldn't help myself. I was being held here because I fricken "captivated" the Joker? Really?

"Now back to business. I distinctly remember telling you not to touch my stuff. And people who disobey me get punished." He pulled out his knife and used it to push my hair out of my eyes. I really did plan on dying this time. I was sick of the Joker, sick of being locked up, and sick of surviving every time he pulled out his knife. I was sick of _him._

I started to punch him, but he grabbed my hand and twisted it away. I could feel my bones threatening to snap under the pressure, but I pulled out of his grip and aimed for his head. I finally made contact with his head and I heard him laugh at my weak punch. He pulled me off of him and threw me on the ground, where my head snapped against the hard floor. I was used to pain like this- the bruises, scrapes, and blows that Vinny used to give me all the time, but there was something about seeing the Joker's knife approach me that made my stomach drop. I didn't like cuts- those left scars, which left questions. The Joker knew that best of all.

"Look," he said. "I don't plan on killing you today… too many things to do, people to hurt, places to explode! I am running on ah, ah tight schedule today, and killing you is not on my list. So I would suggest getting ready for this party. It's going to be… explosive." He laughed and pocketed his knife, then walked out of the room, leaving me on the floor.


	9. Tonight's Entertainment

Happy New Year! To celebrate, I stayed up way past midnight writing a looong chapter. Thank you to all who reviewed- you really keep me motivated to write more chapters and post as fast as I can! Please R&R and enjoy!

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I sat on the floor, my breath coming in uneven gasps. I could feel my head swirling out of control, and I was almost at the point of fainting when something happened in my mind. I realized that sitting here on the floor was not going to do anything for my problems. I had every right to act a little crazy, even outright psychotic. My only constant companion for the last few hours had been the Joker, and he wasn't exactly the most conducive man for a stable environment. But I needed to get a hold of myself, because there was a chance I could get out of here.

The party was my chance to escape from the Joker. I figured that if I was in a party with a bunch of people, I had a much better chance of attracting as much attention to myself as possible than if I refused to cooperate and, say, hid under the bed.

I looked over at the wardrobe and remembered that the Joker had left me a dress. I vaguely wondered what he expected me to wear at the unveiling of Harvey's Dent's illegitimate love child. I opened the wardrobe and snorted under my breath. Apparently he expected me to wear a long, purple gown with a high neckline but a thigh high slit up the leg. Classy.

I pulled on the dress and walked into the bathroom to use the mirror. My reflection looked back at me, and I realized that I hardly recognized myself. My hair was a long tangled mess, and I was covered in dirt and blood. My eyes seemed to have retreated into my face, and I looked like I was dead.

I cleaned up as best as I could, but I still didn't look like I would fit in at a party. Then the cans of grease paint caught my eyes. Red, black, and white cans of face paint were haphazardly balanced between the counter and the sink. With a little bit of work, I could use them to my advantage.

A half an hour later, I stepped back into the room. I was surprised to see the Joker pacing around, holding what looked to be a bracelet. He was wearing one of his purple suits, but this one looked expensive. It even looked like he had smoothed down his hair a bit.

"You look like a nervous kid on prom night," I said with a smirk, startling him. He looked up and smiled at me, licking his lips. I saw eyes go straight to my red lipstick, black rimmed eyes, and pale complexion.

"And you, kid, look like me," he shot back. I rolled my eyes, but I guess I had to give him that one. It was _his_ makeup, after all.

"Your corsage, milady," he said with a small bow, playing along with my prom comment. I held out my wrist, and he snapped on a shiny silver cuff covered in (very obviously fake) diamonds. I heard it click shut, and to my surprise a little light on the bottom turned on and began flashing green.

"What is this?" I asked, giving the cuff a shake. There was no way I was getting this thing off of me.

"A bracelet."

"Why am I wearing it?"

"Because it's pretty," he said with a smile. "Oh, wait, I remember! It's also a bomb. If you are more than 100 yards away from me, the remote trigger I have right here goes off and, ah, you go KA-BOOM! Or maybe it's 100 feet? I can't really remember right now-ah!"

"What?" I immediately jumped closer to him. I could feel the panic that I had worked so hard to calm rising up in me again.

"So I would recommend keeping your hands and feet inside the party at all times tonight!" he laughed.

"You sick little-"

"To the van!" he cut me off and started towards the door. I raced after him, trying to follow as close as humanly possible without actually touching him. He seemed to be in a relatively good mood- there was a bounce in his step and he was humming a tune that I was sure I had heard before but just couldn't place. Apparently things were going according to plan… or according to lack of plan- whatever floated his boat.

We walked down the hall and downstairs to the main room, where about a dozen men were waiting. Most of them were dressed in dark clothes and had clown masks on or in their hands, but Norgard and Stanton were dressed in tuxedos and had slicked back their hair.

"Everything's ready to go, boss, we just need to get to get the guns in the van," said Norgard. The Joker nodded and led me through the main door to outside. It was a freezing cold night in Gotham, and it was so late it was almost pitch black. I could tell we were in a gravel parking lot surrounded by other dark buildings. My heart sank when I realized that I could be anywhere in the warehouse district. Even if I could contact someone at the party, no one would know where to find me.

There were two white vans parked next to each other, and the men divided themselves between them. I was dragged into one of them by the Joker and found myself being strapped in between him and a tall guy with a mask. Norgard was barking orders and people were yelling things like, "Got the ammo?" and "Frank, this one's going to have to go in the other van." There was so much commotion and movement going on, but I looked over at the Joker and he was sitting completely still with his eyes closed. It wasn't like he was sleeping- more like he was taking in the chaotic order he created just by simply _being_ the Joker. Then his eyes flew open and he licked his lips with a smile.

"Let's get this show on the road, gentlemen… and lady."

Everyone finished piling into the vans and with the sound on flying gravel we were off. The ride was uneventful and dark and mostly silent besides the sounds of the car and the occasional random chuckle from the Joker. I gave him dirty looks every time he did that, so after a while he was silent, too. Twenty minutes later I began to see more lights outside the darkened windows. We were getting close to the city. A couple more minutes and we were on the main road to the heart of Gotham. I recognized buildings from the nice side of town- the Bank of Gotham, the Courthouse, Wayne Tower, and finally the residential tower that playboy Bruce Wayne lived in. I remembered from the newspaper article I had read earlier that Wayne was throwing this fundraiser for Dent at his penthouse.

The driver hooked a hard left into the alley behind the building and came to a screeching to a halt.

"Everybody out. Let's move it! Frank, get the guns. You there, don't forget that mask. Stanton, get the girl, we're going through the service entrance," Norgard yelled. The men jumped out of the van and started running around, unloading things from the van and putting on their masks. I was yanked out by the Joker and landed roughly on the asphalt. He pulled me back up and leaned into me. With one finger under my chin, he raised my head so he could look me in the eyes.

"I'll see you soon, Lace-face." He whispered with a smirk. Then he turned and took off for the front of the building with his men. I was left standing with Norgard and Stanton. Stanton grabbed me roughly by the arm and pulled me along to a door on the side of the building, which he easily opened. We continued down a bare hallway until we reached a service elevator. We rode it up to the top floor, and arrived in a bustling kitchen. There were cooks everywhere, yelling at the waiters or running around with loads of dishes. I assumed that they had been hired for the party- which made me realize that we were extremely out of place in here and someone was bound to realize this.

"Hey, what are you people doing back here! The party's out front!" yelled a passing waiter.

Norgard confidently brushed past the waiter while Stanton pulled me along. "Sorry, she's had a bit too much to drink. We're just gonna take her home now," he said apologetically. This excuse was good enough for the busy waiter, who let us pass by. We continued on through the kitchen and went through a set of doors before we arrived at the back of a huge room full of socialites and politicians.

"Now listen close, I'm only going to say this once," whispered Stanton. "Your job is to act like you belong here. Walk through the party, act natural; don't talk to anyone unless you have to. No conversations about escaping, though. I will know if you're getting a little too friendly. The boss is still down there right now, but he will arrive in ten minutes. See that elevator over there? Yeah, that one, by the guy with the black hair? You need to be right by that elevator in ten minutes. Now Stanton and I are going to be on the lookout for Security, but we will be watching you, and if you talk to anyone or do anything even remotely stupid, there will be consequences. Got it?"

I nodded my head, so he released his grip and followed Norgard into the party. I stood still at first, not sure what to do. Then I spotted a waiter holding a tray of shrimp skewers. I hadn't eaten in a while, so I rushed over to the waiter.

"Good evening, miss, care for a shrimp skewer, or perhaps a stuffed olive?" he asked.

I smiled and nodded, then grabbed four skewers and began to devour them. The waiter looked appropriately appalled and backed away. With a full stomach, I could finally begin to think about the situation I was in. My cuff was still blinking green, which I hoped meant that I was still in range of the Joker. But then I stopped to think about this statement. Stanton had said that the Joker was still on the street. I was on the top floor of a skyscraper. If the exploding cuff supposedly had a range of 100 yards from the Joker, then I was out of range simply by being sixty floors above him. Which meant that there was no bomb- just a crappy piece of jewelry with a flashing light. The cuff had been a scare tactic, something to keep me from running if I got the chance. A trick.

This still didn't mean I was free. Norgard and Stanton were still glancing at me from across the room every now and then, and the Joker was going to be here in about nine minutes now. I needed to wait until the time was right to make my move.

With the pressure of having a bomb on my wrist removed, another thing that I hadn't thought much about came to my mind. My father- my real father- was in this room. I had never seen him in person, but on TV he always looked so happy and handsome and perfect. Well, not entirely perfect. I was living proof of that. I wondered where my mother was right now. Was she with her criminal husband? Was she happy? Did she ever think about the daughter that she left behind so long ago? I realized it was stupid to ask these questions. My parents obviously didn't care about me. I was just a mistake to them- a dirty little secret that needed to be swept under the rug.

My thoughts were interrupted by another waiter.

"You look a little young to be at a party such as this," said an older man with a British accent. He was smiling and holding a tray of champagne. I wasn't big on alcohol, but any form of liquid sounded good right now. The waiter laughed when he saw me eyeing the tray.

"Now there, young lady, I know you aren't quite twenty one yet! Luckily for you, I have some sparkling cider right here." He grabbed a glass from the back of the tray and handed it to me. I thanked him and began to turn away, but he was intent on making conversation.

"What is your name, miss?" he asked. I considered turning away to avoid any suspicion from Norgard or Stanton, but they both seemed to be looking away and the waiter seemed to kind to offend.

"Lacey Grey," I replied. I figured there was no use in lying to someone I was never going to see again.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Grey. My name is Alfred. May I ask who escorted a beautiful young lady such as yourself tonight?

"Um, my… father. He's in politics." I responded. Damn it, I shouldn't have said anything. I knew he would start asking questions I didn't have answers to.

"May I ask who he is? I'm not one who is much into politics, but I'm Master Wayne's butler, so I've dealt with my fair share of politicians."

"Uh… he's right over there!" I said, randomly pointing through the crowd at a group of men. "Oh, he's waving at me! I'm afraid I have to go now. It was nice to meet you, Alfred."

"You as well, Miss Grey," he said. I could tell that he knew something was wrong. My voice had been a little too shaky and I had dodged a simple question. I needed to get away from him- fast.

I weaved through the party and finally ended up by the elevator. I figured I only had a minute or two before the Joker arrived. I considered pressing the down button and slipping on the elevator before anyone noticed, but I noticed Norgard not ten feet away, noisily chugging multiple champagne flutes from a table. It was a wonder he had blended into a high society event like this for ten minutes, let alone one.

Suddenly, the elevator dinged. The sound scared me so much I jumped. But it was nothing compared to the gunshots that went off a few second later. People in the crowd gasped and even screamed, and the glass I was holding slipped from my hands and shattered.

"Good evening ladies and gentle-man! We are tonight's… entertainment."

Then let the show begin.


	10. Distractions

The Joker's men quickly cleared a space in the crowd and grabbed a few bystanders to keep the crowd under control. I saw one of the clowns stay behind in the elevator with a gun, supposedly in case Dent or anyone else tried to escape that way. I tried to back away as much as I could, but suddenly I felt the barrel of a gun pressed into my back and I guessed that Norgard was reminding me that someone was still watching me. The Joker walked around the party, leering at a few random people and asking for Harvey Dent. I couldn't find Dent in the crowd, and apparently the Joker couldn't either.

"I only have one question- where is Harvey Dent? Where is he… you seen him? Ya know, I'll settle for his loved ones," he said. I saw him turn towards the elevator and lock eyes with me. He started to walk towards me when he was blocked by a lady in a long black dress. I recognized her as Rachal Dawes, one of the more well know prosecutors from the DA's office- and Hervey Dent's girlfriend.

"Ok, stop." She said confidently. The Joker rolled his eyes, annoyed that he couldn't move ahead with his big revealing of Dent's illegitimate child, but he turned to face her. I could tell he needed her out of the way. He talked to her and threatened her for a few moments, which ended with her kicking him between the legs. He laughed and backed up, doubled over in pain.

"You've got a kick in you. I like that!" he laughed.

"Then you're gonna love me." Suddenly Batman was right behind the Joker. With a swift punch to the head, the fight began. The Joker's men well outnumbered Batman, but he seemed invincible, taking out one right after the other. Norgard pushed me out of the way to join the fight, but within seconds he was knocked out cold. I realized that all of this chaos would give me a chance to run. The only problem was I had no idea how to get out of the party. The main elevator still had a clown in it, and the service elevator was all the way across the room. I spotted the butler I had met earlier watching the scene a few yards away and I realized that if anyone knew a way out, it would be him.

"Mr. Alfred!" I whispered, remembering his name. He whipped around in surprise. "Mr. Alfred, please, you have to help me. You're Bruce Wayne's butler, right?""

"Yes,I am, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"I know this sounds crazy, but I was kidnapped by the Joker. He forced me to come to this party and his men have been watching me all night to make sure I don't try to escape. If I don't leave now and go to the police I might not be able to escape again. Is there another way out besides the elevators?" I asked. I realized that I probably sounded insane to the poor butler, but I needed him to know that I had to get out of here now or never. He looked shocked for a few seconds but quickly regained his composure.

"There is a flight of stairs down that hall that should lead you to the business levels of the building. Once you're there you should be able to take the public lift down to the lobby. Take a taxi to the Major Crimes Unit building on Third and University. Ask for Detective Gordon and tell him what kind of trouble you are in. Can you remember this, Miss Grey?" he asked. I nodded quickly. We were both startled by the sound of breaking glass, and I turned around to see Rachel Dawes being held out the window by the Joker. He was talking to Batman but I could see his eyes searching the area where I should have been standing. When he realized I wasn't there, he said a few words to Batman and then let go of Rachel. I saw Batman fly out of the window, and I realized I had to leave _now._

I whispered a quick thanks to Alfred, and then turned to sprint down the hallway he had pointed out. I followed Alfred's directions all the way to the elevator, where I punched the down button and waited in the dark. Waiting was excruciating- I wanted to be running, to get as far away from this place as fast as my legs would take me. To my relief the elevator arrived a minute later, and I rode it down to the lobby.

The lobby was in turmoil. There were women crying into their husband's arms and the entire building staff seemed to be in the room. Apparently the Joker had shot the security guard in the leg, and killed one of the doormen. There was a pool of blood around the doorman's body, and a group of people were trying to stop the security guard from bleeding out. I managed to push my way through the room and out the front door. I hailed a taxi and threw myself in.

"Where to?" asked the driver.

"Major Crimes Unit building, uh…. Third and University!" I managed to choke out. I was out of breath from running so much and on the verge of tears. The driver gave me a quizzical look from the front seat but didn't ask any questions. He pulled away from the building and sped off towards the MCU building.

The detective opened entered the interrogation room again, this time with his fourth cup of coffee. He sat down across from me and stifled a yawn. I couldn't blame him- it was almost three in the morning. I had been sitting in the interrogation room in MCU for about three hours now, telling my story to Detective Foreman over and over again. He took out his notepad and let out a heavy sigh.

"Ok, so let me make sure I've got it all down. You were mugged and stabbed in an alley, and then kidnappd by the Joker and your friend Danny… Danny…." He muttered, flipping back through his notes. "That would be Daniel Ariati, correct?"

I nodded quickly, so he continued.

"Ok, so you're kidnapped, you wake up in a warehouse, then you try to escape but the Joker ends up shooting Ariati, then he takes you to a party, and then you escape," he said. I had decided to leave out the part about the Joker's guy attacking me and me killing him. I figured his death wasn't going to be brought up again by anyone else, and I didn't want to deal with explaining that it was all in self defense. I also didn't tell him that my real parents were Harvey Dent and Diana Maroni- I didn't want to give the Joker the satisfaction of revealing his plan.

"Well, yeah I guess that's what happened," I said.

"Ok, I want to believe you, I really do, but there's a few things wrong with this story. Ok, first of all, why would the Joker want to kidnap you? You aren't from a rich family, so there's no money in it for him. Second of all, this Ariati kid has been missing for almost two months now, and you expect me to believe he's been working with the Joker? That's a big coincidence, ok? And why would the Joker take a hostage out in public- and to a party?" he said. I glared at the detective. Even though what he was saying sort of made sense, he still could have been a little less skeptic. And he smelled like bad cologne, talked with the most annoying Jersey accent, and used "ok" way too much.

"I promise I'm telling the truth! Why would I lie?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, you could just be crazy. But we get people in here all the time, making up crazy stories about the Joker for money or publicity or sympathy. You gotta give me something more than a story, kid, ok?"

"I know that there were two guys that were always with the Joker… Norgard and Stanton. I never heard any first names, but I would remember their faces if I saw them again," I said.

"Great kid, ok, I'll send my sketch artist in. Sit tight." He got up to leave, but I stopped him.

"Hey, is Detective Gordon here?" I asked, suddenly remembering what Alfred had told me at the party.

"He's dealing with the mess at Wayne's place right now, but he'll be back soon. Believe me; he'll want to talk to you, kid."


	11. Interrogation

Hey guys! So I kind of had a family emergency and wasn't able to post this as soon as I would have liked :/ . SO I'm trying to make up for it by writing a lot! Once again, reviews made my day. If I could hug you all I most definitely would! So basically I'm missing the Joker even after one chapter… he makes things so fun! Back to Lacey for now, but I promise our favorite criminally insane clown is coming back soon…

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I waited in the interrogation room for another thirty minutes before I heard raised voices coming from outside the door. I couldn't make out all of the words, but I clearly heard, "Since when had it been procedure to put a kidnapping victim in an interrogation room?" I allowed myself a small smile- apparently someone wasn't too happy with Detective Foreman.

The door opened seconds later and in walked none other than James Gordon. I had grown up hearing his name often in the papers- years ago as an outstanding cop, and lately one of the best detectives of the force. He had an eternally tired look on his face, like he knew that there was never going to be enough good in Gotham but he was going to try to fix it anyway.

"Hi, I'm Lieutenant Gordon. You're Lacey Grey, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," was my intelligent response. Wow. I really needed some sleep.

"Come with me. I don't know what Foreman was thinking, keeping you in here. Let's go to my office. Would you like some water? From what I hear we're going to be talking for a while. I'm sorry that you had to spend all of that time in the interrogation room. Foreman… sometimes he's…."

"Ok?" I guessed. He let out a chuckle.

"Yes, he says that a lot doesn't he?"

I immediately liked Gordon. Anyone who wasn't a fan of that rent-a-cop Foreman was a good person in my book. I followed Gordon through a busy room full of people frantically running from desk to desk, comparing notes and making phone calls. I guessed that the Joker's murder of the doorman and his appearance at Wayne's party had MCU working overtime. We finally arrived in his office, and I was finally able to sit in a comfortable chair and have a drink of water for the first time in hours.

"So, first off, I just want to tell you that Foreman filled me in and gave me your statement. However, knowing him, it might not be the full story. How about you start from the beginning and tell me what you know."

So I did. I told him everything that had happened to me since I had walked down the alley all those days ago and added more details than before, but left out the same parts I had when I told my story earlier to Detective Foreman. I realized that I would never tell anyone I had killed a man or who my parents were. That would involve too many questions that needed answers I didn't have.

A few more hours later, and I was done in MCU. I had finished telling my story to Gordon, and a lady had led me to what looked like a school nurse's office to clean me up and inspect my wounds. My "J" wound had begun to heal, but she insisted on pulling out the Joker's stitches and doing them over again. Then she asked the question I knew would be coming soon.

"Now sweetie, remember you are safe here. Did the Joker do anything to you that made you feel uncomfortable? Did he invade your space in any way? You can tell me if he did anything to you." She said in a sweet voice. It was a little too sweet. I shook my head no. In truth, the Joker hadn't done anything like that- except for the kiss. And it had hardly made me feel uncomfortable- quite the opposite, actually.

Another lady had drawn out a pretty accurate rendition of both Norgard and Stanton with my description. I couldn't remember any other faces besides those two, and they already had a pretty accurate description of the Joker: crazy guy with a scarred smile and makeup. Not many criminals could manage to fit that description.

I sat in the waiting room for the MCU with a cup of coffee and a magazine I wasn't really reading in my lap. Gordon had called for a police car to escort me home and take the night shift for watching my apartment. I had told Gordon that the Joker knew where I lived, and while we both thought he would lay low for a while, Gordon still insisted on having a police car parked outside during the night.

By now it was morning. I could see the sun rising through the windows, partially blocked by the massive Wayne Tower. I realized I hadn't seen Bruce Wayne at Dent's fundraiser- not before or after the Joker's entrance. I hadn't even seen the man himself- Harvey Dent. So where was he?

My questions were suddenly answered when a police man walked in escorting Dent. I tried not to stare but I couldn't help it. My father, my real father, was right in front of me. I studied his features, trying to connect them to my own. I had obviously missed the blonde hair gene, but we had the same eyes. He caught me staring at him, so I blushed and tried to look interested in the magazine. I could feel his eyes burning into me, and I realized that he recognized me. Somehow, he realized he had seen me before. And I had an idea where he recognized me from.

When Dent arrived, all of the people stopped working and began swarming him, asking questions and requesting fingerprints and whatnot. This gave me the perfect opportunity to head to a nearby desk that was abandoned and test my theory. I quickly typed in "Diana Maroni" in a search bar and hit the enter key. A criminal record popped up first, just some misdemeanors from twenty years ago and a quick note that she was married to a drug lord. Then the picture popped up. It was the one in the arrest records from her misdemeanor all those years ago, and she looked to be around my age, give or take a few years. It was her face that shocked me. It looked exactly like mine- same nose, same skin that was a little on the tan side, and same long, chocolate brown curls. The only feature we didn't share was my eye color. I knew then that Dent knew I was his daughter- there was only one way I could look that much like the woman he had fathered a baby with so long ago.

I returned to my seat and tried to look at Dent through the crowd. He was talking to Gordon and another man, but he was looking for me across the office. I saw him point my way and ask something to Gordon, and even though I was far away I could distinctly hear "Oh, her? That's Lacey Grey."

A few policemen entered the building and distracted me.

"Lacey Grey? I'm Officer Barnes, and this is Officer Stevens. We're here to escort you home today," said a short, chubby man with a handlebar mustache. I half expected him to have a southern accent. Officer Stevens was tall, handsome, and thankfully mustache-less, but he seemed a little young to be an officer and kept on looking around nervously, like he expected the waiting room to blow up any minute. I figured that being a police officer in Gotham, it wasn't all that stupid to expect something like that.

I tried to get one last look at Dent as they escorted me through the room, but his face was lost in the busy office. They led me outside, where the sun was a little bit higher in the sky now, but not high enough to warm the air just yet. I shivered in my MCU- issued jacket, but I still was only wearing a thin evening gown under it. The younger cop, Stevens, opened the door to a police car for me, and I tried to smile at him through my chattering teeth. We all climbed into the car and we were off, heading towards the bad part of Gotham city.

Officer Barnes, who obviously had seniority over Stevens, tried to make polite conversation with me, but I could tell he was the type of man who didn't like conversing with people younger than forty. I tried to answer his typical questions (Where do you go to school? What's your favorite class?) but after a while he ran out of things to say, so he resorted to uncomfortable silence. A few minutes later Stevens reached out apprehensively to turn on the radio to an alternative rock station. Barnes snorted in disbelief and switched to a country station. As the two men sat bickering and switching the station in the front seats, I let my mind wonder.

I thought about Vinny, who I hadn't seen in who knows how many days. Was he worried about me? Did he miss me? I had tried calling him from MCU earlier, but it had gone straight to voicemail. I didn't really expect him to be up that late, but it still would have been nice to hear his voice. I was a little scared that he might hit me for being so stupid and getting myself kidnapped, but then again I figured that maybe this time he would be so relieved to see me that he wouldn't get so angry.

We arrived a few minutes later at the apartment. The street was silent at this time of morning, but even in the light it looked dark and scary.

"Officer Stevens will be back tonight to watch the house. If there's anything you're worried about, just call us and we'll be right over. Now Stevens will walk you in," said Officer Barnes. I thanked him for everything and waited until Stevens got out of the car to hurry up to the main door. Stevens was a gentleman and held it open for me.

"You've been through a lot tonight, haven't you?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah…" I trailed off, not really knowing how to respond.

"Well, you're safe now, and that's all anyone in Gotham can ask for. Now go home and watch some old reruns of Scooby-Doo. It's good for the nerves," he laughed.

I allowed myself a small smile as I imagined the entire Gotham police force watching Scooby-Doo in their Snuggies at home.

"It takes a real man to admit that he watches Scooby-Doo as an adult," I said as we climbed the stairs.

Stevens smiled and began to answer back, stopped dead in his tracks and pulled out his gun as we reached my floor. I peered over his shoulder and realized that the door to the apartment was open ever so slightly. A few small pieces of splintered wood were on the floor, and I realized that someone had broken into the apartment.

"Stay here," said Stevens. He walked forward with his gun held out in front of him, then pushed open the door all the way. I didn't listen to him and followed behind him. I looked under his outstretched arm, and what I saw made me gasp out loud. On the opposite wall, written in distinctive handwriting that I recognized, were four words written in blood.

YOU ARE MINE NOW

I remembered the Joker saying something like this long ago when I had first mention that Vinny sometimes hit me. Then I looked down. Vinny lay dead on the floor, his face disfigured with a carved smile. He was covered in blood, and my stomach turned when I realized his hands were missing. That was when my eyes finally rolled back and I fell into the waiting arms of Officer Stevens. I could vaguely hear him call for backup on his radio as I fainted, but one voice seemed louder to me.

The Joker's voice was in my head, telling me over and over again: "You. Are. Mine. Now."


	12. Trust and Guns

I woke up a few minutes later in the arms of Officer Stevens. I tell that he was moving me out of the apartment, and I saw a few cops, including officer Barnes, rush by us into the room as we left. The image of Danny's dead body was burned into my mind- no matter how hard I closed my eyes, I couldn't get the image of his disfigured body out of my head. Stevens set me down in the hall and then walked me down the hall and down the stairs. By this time, there were quite a few police cars outside, all with their lights flashing.

Stevens led me to his car and let me into the passenger side, then went to sit in the front seat. We sat silently for a minute or two, neither of us knowing what to say. I was waiting for the tears to come, but then I realized I was relieved. There would be no more worrying about getting hit; no more praying that Vinny wasn't in a bad mood. I missed him, but at the same time I didn't have to live with him anymore. Still, he didn't deserve what happened to him. No one did.

I spent the rest of the day at MCU again, mostly just sitting I the waiting room and staring blankly at the wall or talking to Gordon. Stevens spent a lot of time just sitting next to me. We didn't talk much, and if we did it was about unimportant things like who we were going to root for in the Superbowl or what our favorite TV shows were. It wasn't much, but it was nice to have someone to talk to that wasn't only interested in the murder investigation or the Joker.

Since my apartment was a crime scene now, I didn't have anywhere to go home to. Gordon suggested I go to my parent's house, but I shot that idea down as soon as he said it. My parents- the adoptive ones- had never acted like they wanted me, and I didn't feel like living with them again. The only place left for me was my older brother Alex's house on the college campus on the outskirts of the city. Alex and I had always gotten along, and even though we weren't extremely close we stayed in touch. I called him and explained my circumstances, and a little while later I was back in the car with Officer Stevens on my way to Alex's house.

A few days later I was finally getting used to living with my brother. Living with anyone but the Joekr was taking some getting used to again. There was never a moment when I didn't think about him. Sure, I thought about Danny and Vinny a lot, but the Joker always seemed to be on my mind. I realized that somehow, after all he had done to me, I… missed him. I would always have this recurring dream with him, where I would be kissing Vinny, then suddenly the Joker would take his place and Vinny would be dead at my feet. Then the Joker would start laughing uncontrollably. Other times Danny would replace Vinny in the dream, and I would find him dead too. I would wake up screaming, and Alex would always run upstairs with a gun in his hands. After a while he just left the gun behind and stayed in my room, always there to calm me when I woke up from the nightmares.

I had avoided asking Alex a question that had been on my mind for a while, but I knew it couldn't wait much longer. Alex was five years older than me, so I knew that he must have known that I wasn't related to him.

"Alex, do you remember when mom was pregnant?" I asked him when we were making dinner one night. He didn't answer immediately, so I could tell he was thinking about his answer.

"I was only five, Lace. I don't really remember much from back then."

"You must remember something! Did mom ever mention anything about me being…adopted?" I asked tentatively. Alex dropped the knife he was using to cut up the meat and looked at me.

"Listen, I don't know very much at all, ok? When I was ten or so, I started asking questions, like why you didn't look as much like our parents as I did, or why you were born when mom wasn't even pregnant. They wouldn't answer me at first, but four years later I was looking through the mail and I found two letters. Neither of them had a return address, but both had a thousand dollars in cash. I told dad what I found, and I convinced him to finally tell me what was going on. All he would say was that a nice couple had paid him and mom to take you in until you were eighteen. I don't know who your real parents are, and I didn't want to tell you were adopted because I didn't know how you would take it. I'm sorry, Lace."

I was a little surprised that my parents had told Alex about my "adoption", but at the same time what he was telling me was nothing new. I considered telling him who my real parents were, but decided against it. The less people knew, the better.

Alex and I ate dinner quickly, and then with a hug goodbye he was off to a party. I settled into my usual spot on the couch and turned on the TV, ready for another night of watching show after show until Alex stumbled in early in the morning. A few minutes later, I heard a knock on the door. I froze, not knowing what to do. Alex obviously had his own key so it wasn't him, and I couldn't think of another person who would be knocking on his door so late. The knocking started again, this time louder, as if whover was out there was getting impatient. Finally, I neared the door and looked through the peephole. It was Officer Stevens. I breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door for him.

"Hey, Officer Stevens, is there something wrong?" I asked. He looked more nervous than normal, and his eyes kept darting around like he thought someone was watching.

"No, no, nothing's wrong. I just need you to, uh, come down to the MCU with me. We need you to identify some of the Joker's men. Could you do that for me?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure, anything to help," I said hastily, grabbing my coat and following him outside. It wasn't so much that I wanted to help with the investigation as I wanted to spend time with Officer Stevens. He made me feel safe for some reason, never mind the fact that he was tall, handsome, and easy to talk to.

I got into the passenger eat of the police car and noticed something odd.

"Where's Officer Barnes?" I asked.

"He's… off tonight," said Stevens. I realized he seems to be in a bad mood, so I didn't ask him anymore questions. Suddenly, a police call came in over Stevens' radio, and even though he struggled to turn in down as quickly as he could, I could still hear it loud and clear.

"The Joker has escaped the MCU. I repeat, the Joker had escaped. All units be advised."

Stevens got a phone call soon after that. I couldn't hear anything, the other person said, but I saw Stevens' face turn from amicable to stern as the conversation went on. He slammed his phone shut, stomped on the brakes, and pulled a hard left. The car went spinning, but eventually righted itself as we continued down the road. At this point, I was freaking out.

"Where are we going? The MCU is that way! Officer Stevens, what's going on?" I yelled.

He let out a deep sigh and turned to face me.

"Look sweetie, it's a cruel world out there. And Gotham isn't going to get any better. Things are heading downhill, and the good guys aren't going to win this time. I have to make a living, and the Joker pays a hell of a lot more than the cops."

I shook my head, realizing I'd been betrayed. I had trusted him, and here he was, trading me off for a few more dollars in his pocket.

We reached an alley, where I saw two familiar white vans parked side by side. Stevens parked the car and pulled me out of the passenger side. Down the alley I saw a few men get out of the vans, one of them with the unmistakable purple suit of the Joker. Stevens dragged me over to them.

"Here's the girl, now give me my money!" he demanded.

The Joker laughed manically, the sound echoing off the walls of the alley. It sounded the same as it did in my dreams.

"Thank you, Stevie, I think I'll take it from here. And, ah, I don't believe I owe you any money. You see, unless you want Of-fi-cer Barnes to know about your little affair with his pretty little wifey, I suggest you turn around and walk away now."

Stevens did not like this at all. He pulled out his gu and pointed it at the Joker.

"At-a-a, I wouldn't think about that f I were you," said the Joker, taking a few tentative steps backwards.

"I need my money, NOW!" yelled Stevens. "I'll shoot her!" he pointed the gun to my head, and for a second I thought I saw a flicker of emotion cross the Joker's face, but it was gone as soon as it came.

"Go ahead." Said the Joker, shrugging and turning around. He began to walk back to the van, but Stevens removed to gun from y head, pointed it at the Joker, and fired. The bullet hit the back of his right shoulder, and he went down. Stevens dropped me and ran to his car before any of the Jokers me could get a good shot off. I realized that if there was ever a time to run, it was now. But I couldn't leave the Joker writhing in pain on the ground. For some reason, I found myself running towards the Joker and kneeling down beside him. He had been rolled over on his side by some of his men, and they were attempting to lift him into a van. The Joker's eyes were closed, but he opened them just wide enough to see my face.

"Hey Lacey doll, it's been a while." He said Then, with a small smile, his eyes rolled back into his head and his body went limp.


	13. Emergency Room

Thanks for reviews:) I am kind of hitting a writers block, so any ideas would be greatly appreciated! Enjoy... :P

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"No, no, this can't be happening. Wake up! Wake UP!" I yelled, shaking the Joker's body in my arms. Norgard roughly shoved me out of the way and grabbed the Joker's body. With the help of some other men, he lifted the Joker into the back of a van. Norgard pointed his gun at me and demanded, "Get in."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I pulled myself into the bed of the van and the doors were closed behind me. Two other men were in the back- Stanton, and some guy who I recognized from when they crashed Dent's party. Stanton had his hands pressed down on the Joker's wound to stop the bleeding. As the van sped off, I realized what was going to happen.

"You have to take him to a hospital! He could die," I said frantically as he began to bleed through his jacket. The blood turned the purple fabric a dark black color, and I tried not to panic as more and more the blood stained the jacket.

"Are you serious? You can't just take the Joker to a hospital. He'd be arrested on the spot, and who would even try to save him? No, we need to get him back to the warehouse. The bullet went through and through, and it avoided any major artery or bone. The only reason he passed out is blood loss," said Stanton.

"You aren't a doctor! How do you know all of this?" I screamed.

"When I was younger I was a nur- doctor's assistant." He mumbled under his breath. I allowed myself a small smirk. I could have sworn he was about to say "nurse".

A few minutes later we arrived at the warehouse. Stanton and Norgard, along with the other man in our van, pulled the Joker out of the van and carried him into the warehouse. I followed behind them as them carried him into the front door and into a spare room. The door was promptly shut in my face, and a short but muscular guy stood in front of the door, blocking me from entering. I sighed and sat down on the couch that occupied the main area of the warehouse. I saw a deck of cards on the table, so I grabbed them and started shuffling. I wanted something to take my mind off things, and the cards seemed to be working for the most part. For the next twenty minutes I shuffled the cards over and over again, only pausing when people rushed in and out of the room. Once or twice I saw Stanton, his hands covered in blood, grabbing an ominous looking tool from the workbench and rushing back in.

At thirty minutes, I began to carefully sort the cards into suite. I heard a man in the room yell in pain. I assumed that the Joker had woken up and wasn't in the best mood. I stopped to think about the predicament he was in. He was a mass murderer that had been rendered helpless, yet dozens of men were willing to go to great lengths to save him. Why? What did they owe the Joker? From what I had seen, he had never been "Boss of The Year". So why did these men want to save his life?

An hour later, the door burst open, and a shirtless Joker stumbled out of the room.

"I got shot in the arm, no-t the leg. I can walk by myself!" he yelled over his shoulder. His men rushed out of the room to help him, and they reached him just in time. The Joker fainted on the spot, landing in a heap on the concrete. He woke up seconds later, obviously very confused as to why he was on the ground.

"Boss, you lost a lot of blood, it's best not to walk until after you've rested for a while," said Stanton, pulling up his boss back up to a standing position. With his help, the Joker was able to walk up the stais, down the hall, and to his room, where I heard the door slam shut. I stood in the main room, not really knowing what to do. As much as I wanted to make sure the Joker was ok, I valued my life too much to check on him without his permission. So I sat back down on the couch and picked my cards backup again. It was only then that I realized there were no Jokers in the deck.

I smiled and kept on shuffling until Stanton came back downstairs. His hands were coated in dried blood, and he looked tired, but I surmised from his look that The Joker hadn't died or anything in the time since I had seen him.

He took a deep breath and said, "He wants you."


	14. Trapped

So here it is! The second to last chapter in this story! I will write the final chapter as soon as I post this.

Once this story is over, I'm debatng whether I should

a) Write a new Fanfic (about the Joker, duh!)

b)write a sequel to this story

So i'm still deciding, so input would be loved:)

It took me a while to write this, plus I've been very busy, so I hope you aren't too mad at me that this took so long! well here goes... please read and review!

I sprang up from the couch, and then ran up the stairs. When I got to his door I stopped. What was I doing here? Why wasn't I running from the Joker right now? I had no reason to be here- the Joker had captured me, killed my boyfriend, and effectively turned my life into a living hell. But there was something that kept me standing still. Maybe it was the fact that he had killed my abuser, taken me away from my mediocre life and changed it completely, and saved me from Jared Winters. Maybe it was just that first kiss he had given me, long ago when he thought I was asleep. Or maybe I was just crazy.

Whatever it was, I finally opened the door and walked into the room. The Joker was lying on the bed, his bare torso showing his bandaged shoulder. There was already blood showing through the bandage, and his breathing was heavy and labored. I could tell he was in pain.

"I can heeaaar you, Lace-face." He said in that familiar, high-pitched voice. There was something wrong about it, like it was paining him to talk.

I inched closer to the bed, and then sat down on the edge. He rolled over towards me with a groan of pain, and then started laughing. I stared at him, confused.

"Well hello there, darling. Haven't seen your face for a while-ah! Why is that, oh, wait…. It's because you ran away from me!" His voice got threateningly high and mocking. I knew I was in trouble. "You ran away… ya know, it's really just rude. When I was your age, we didn't run away from our kidnappers. We stayed where we were and we did what we were told. WE DIDN'T RUN AWAY!"

"I- I'm sorry!" I whimpered. Then he began to laugh.

"You know, it's really funny…" he said. "I think I was beginning to, ah, miss you."

He leaned closer to me, our faces almost touching. Then, with a surprising suddenness, his lips crashed down on mine. I kissed back fiercely. This wasn't like the first kiss- it was better. Much, much better. Our lips moved in sync and his undamaged arm reached to pull me in closer. I reached up to wind my hand into his green-blonde hair, to pull him closer and let him know that I wanted him just as much as he wanted me.

I was so distracted by the kiss, I didn't hear the men yelling down stairs. I barley heard the footsteps thundering down the hall, but the sound of the door as it burst open, dismantled with one swift kick, _that _I definitely heard.

There stood Officer Stevens, his face wild and crazy. A huge gun was being supported by both of his hands, and he was pointing it right at the Joker.

"Hello, Mister Joker! So nice to see you again. And Lacey, you're here too! Good!" said Stevens. I didn't like the sound of his voice. It was deep and dark, not at all a voice that should have come out of a handsome young man like him.

"Officer Stevens-ah, so nice of you to, ah, stop by!" said the Joker. He was smiling, but there was a faint hint of panic in his eyes, something I had never seen before. I realized that he was unarmed and wounded, something he probably wasn't used to.

"Well I had to, you see. I wanted to make sure you kept your end of the deal. So I followed you after I shot you, and when I got here I was able to call in back up. Right now, the police are fighting your men downstairs. No one knows that we're up here, and it can stay that way. I go back downstairs and get a huge promotion, and you get to run for your life. If you just pay me the money-"

"It's always the money with you people, isn't it-ah?"

"I don't just want the money. I want the girl too." I knew Stevens didn't care at all about me. He just knew how angry it would make the Joker.

"Uh… that is no-t going to happen, I'm afraid. She stays with me." The Joker said. I felt a faint smile come to my lips. I was in agreement with him.

"Well then I guess I'll just have to shoot her too!" yelled Stevens. He raised the gun to shoot, but the Joker was faster. His hand shot under the covers of the bed, and I barley caught a glimpse of a shining pistol before he whipped it around to face Stevens. The officer was barely able to hoist the huge gun up to meet his mark before the Joker shot him right hand.

Stevens yelled out in surprise, the gun dropping from his hands. He fell in a heap to the floor, staring at his bloodied hand in shock. Before he had time to reach for his gun, I jumped off the bed and kicked it out of reach.

A sudden surge in commotion downstairs made me jump, and I heard a few men shouting. They were yelling something, a name maybe, something that sounded incredibly like… Batman. Batman was here, and I realized that this meant defeating Stevens had been pointless. If Batman saw the Joker he would take him away on the spot, and I wasn't about to let that happen. I heard swift footsteps on the metal stairs and knew he would be here any second. I took a deep breath and let it out- I knew what I had to do.

"Do you trust me?" I asked the Joker as the footsteps grew closer. He nodded.

I ran towards the Joker, grabbed the gun from him, and shoved him off of the side of the bed. He landed between the wall and the floor with a hard thud, and I heard him moan in pain. I knew that it would hurt him, but if he was lodged between the bed and the wall there was no way Batman would be able to see him from the doorway. Then I grabbed the gun from the floor and pointed it at Stevens.

"You have one second to get the hell out of here." I said, pointing the barrel at him. He whimpered and struggled to his feet, then held his mangled limb awkwardly and started to run out of the door. He ran down the hall and straight past Batman, who gave him a questioning stare but largely ignored him because he was a police man, a "good guy". Instead Batman turned his attention to me, the damsel in distress. Showtime.

I looked downward and blinked rapidly so that tears would come to my eyes. Then I ran towards Batman, heaving with fake sobs.

"Thank god you're here!" I cried, holding onto him like my life depended on it. I barley refrained from batting my eyelashes and saying, "You're my hero!" It was tempting, but I was going for believability. If my plan was going to work, the Batman had to believe me.

"You're Lacey Grey, aren't you? You're the girl the Joker kidnapped earlier this week, right?" asked Batman in his distorted voice.

"Y-y-yes!" I said between sniffles.

"What's wrong? I mean… can I help you in any way, ma'am?" he asked. He was obviously uncomfortable with excessive crying and hugging. I smiled to myself and let out a high pitched wail, which made him even more uncomfortable.

"That- that criminal who calls himself a cop, Officer Stevens, he kidnapped me from my home! He brought me here because he thought he could trade me for something from the Joker. He thought that the Joker might want me back after I escaped and he could get some kind of payment for bringing me in, but when we got here all we saw were these men downstairs. The Joker wasn't even here! Stevens called for backup and the police arrived. He locked me in this room while his police force fought the Joker's men, and he said that since the Joker wasn't here he didn't have any use for me anymore! So he took out a gun and… and…." I fell apart and started incomprehensibly sobbing for a few minutes. I was getting a little low on tears- there's only so much fake crying a girl can do.

"He… he took out a gun and pointed it at me. He was going to k-k-kill me! So I went for the gun, but s-somehow it shot off in his hand. He just escaped right past you. Hurry, Batman, you have to catch him! He's a horrible criminal who can't be trusted! Get him!" I wailed hysterically.

"Don't worry; I'll take care of this!" Batman said heroically. With a sigh of relief he deposited me in a nearby chair and ran down the hall after Stevens. I had given Stevens a good five minute head start from Batman, which meant that I had less than that to get the Joker out of the room before Batman captured Stevens and came back for me.

I climbed over the bed grabbed the Joker's good arm, trying to pull him up. It was no use- I was too small to pull him up and he was too weak to get up himself. Once I got off of the bed, I was able to pull the light bed frame away from the wall. The Joker was slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. Blood was now seeping through his bandages; the events of the past few minutes had caused his heart to pump more blood out of the wound.

I tried to pull him up now that I had more room to move. He finally was able to stand by leaning on me and holding on to the bed railing. He hobbled out to the main hall, where we saw the Joker's men and the police in a gun fight. Norgard and Stanton both hid behind the upturned couch along with a few other men, while the police were using the main doorway as protection against the flying bullets. There was no way the Joker and I could walk through safely. I knew we had two, maybe three minutes until Batman came back from his manhunt for Officer Stevens, and there was no way out. We were trapped.


	15. I'll Follow You

Here it is! The **finale**! It took me a long time to decide what I wanted to do with it, but hopefully you like it. Reviews are **much much much much** loved. I will technologically **kiss** you if you give me a review (I haven't figured out how to do that yet, so the kiss might have to wait for a while!). So please enjoy…

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The Joker gave me a small look of apology. We both knew what had to be done. He shifted his weight and held me closer with his good arm. I handed him the gun I had stashed in my pocket, and he started laughing manically. I vaguely wondered how he could manage to summon up that many endorphins through so much pain, but then I remembered that he was the Joker; he thrived on pain and agony, apparently even his own.

The police men stopped shooting the second they heard the high, cold laugh. They saw the Joker high on the balcony, holding a gun to my head while I fought between him and the railing. It was the perfect stage for the perfect act.

"Now, let's all just-t calm down, Officers, we wouldn't, ah, want my finger to slip on the trigger, now would we?" he taunted. The policeman had a few moments of confused panic, in which half of them pointed their guns at the Joker, and half his men, and then switched. They couldn't seem to decide who was a bigger threat. A dozen armed criminals, or one insane psychopath? They chose the psychopath.

"This is Officer Williams speaking; I demand that you put down the gun and surrender. You are outnumbered and the FBI, CIA, and the SWAT team are all on their way! Put down the gun and step away from the girl, or we will be forced to take action!"

"Well I wouldn't want to force you to do anything! I bet Lace-face over here agrees!" he giggled, roughly shaking me as he laughed.

"Don't let him kill me, please! Save me!" I screamed at the police. I was getting pretty good at this fake damsel in distress thing.

The police seemed to be conferring with themselves. They agreed on something, because they turned their guns back to the Joker.

"I am under orders to bring you in dead or alive, and I will shoot to kill if you do not surrender the hostage!" said Officer Williams, more confidence in his voice then I had heard before. What had made him so confident so suddenly?

I looked across the room and found the answer. In the window opposite from the balcony, I could see the top half of a man struggling into the outdoor window sill. One of the policeman had found a way to climb up the outside of the building, and I knew that once he was settled on the outdoor window ledge he would have a clear shot at the Joker's head without me getting in the way.

Down on the main floor, Norgard had spotted the same thing.

"Boss, sniper!" he yelled, which caught the Joker's attention. When he realized what was going on, I saw the tiniest shadow of fear cross his face. For once, things might not work out his way. He looked around frantically, and finally something on the floor of the balcony caught his eye and made him smirk.

"This is getting too easy…" he muttered. In the blink of an eye he moved the gun from my head and pointed it at the floor, shooting twice. I realized a second too late what he had done. He had shot the place where the balcony railing was bolted in, causing the rail to break under our weight. My body went tumbling through the air, and I screamed as I rushed toward the ground. Suddenly I felt something grab under my arm and hold me tightly. The Joker had grabbed me at the last second, so that he was still standing on the (now railing-less) balcony, and I was dangling over the main floor of the warehouse.

"Feel free to shoot, Officers, but, ah, my hand migh-t slip if I'm dead!" he yelled. I could hear his pain in his words, and I realized that he had grabbed me with his bad arm. I could feel him tremble, and I knew he couldn't hold on to me for much longer.

"It's a one story fall, Joker, and while we don't want the girl to get hurt, a short drop on her part might be a necessary sacrifice to save the people of Gotham," said Officer Williams.

"Douche bag," I whispered at Williams.

"Ah ah ah, Officer, not so fast. She won't have quiet the soft landing you're thinking of… personally I've never tried to land on a roll of barb wire, but I can't imagine it would be very, uh, pleasant!"

I felt the color drain out of my face as I looked down. Below me were three industrial sized rolls of barbed wire, and there was no way I could avoid them if I fell.

"I-uh… do not drop the girl! You are under orders to remain where you are and surrender!" said Williams with a small stutter. He could see no way out of this one. But frankly, dangling from the wounded arm of a deranged clown, I couldn't see a light at the end of the tunnel either. Maybe the one you see when you're on your way to heaven- then again, did loving the Joker make me eligible for any afterlife other than hell?

"Fine, fine, you've got me this time!" laughed the Joker. "I surrender." He dropped the gun, and it landed on the floor with a loud clang. I couldn't believe the Joker was giving up. I had always thought that he was the type of criminal who would rather died in a blaze of guns and glory than spend the rest of his life in Arkham Asylum.

It wasn't over, though. Down below, I saw the Joker's men jump up from behind the overturned couch and their other various barriers. The ample amount of time the Joker had spent distracting the police had given them a chance to rest, reload their guns, and make a battle plan. They had been biding their time, waiting until the Joker's signal, and his fake surrender was it.

They sprang up and aimed at the police. Only a few even turned in the direction of the Joker's men. Most of them were still focused on the Joker. The first row of police went down, followed quickly by the second. Only two police had managed to get behind the doorway before they were shot at. Norgard advanced towards the doorway, but the two cops had grabbed machine guns from their cars. They started firing off at random, and the men were forced to take cover again.

The Joker finally tried to pull me up and back onto the balcony. I heard him struggle to support my weight, but since he was holding me under my arm my body was already partially above the balcony. I felt his other hand grab under my other arm, and he began to pull my weight. I breathed a sigh of relief; in a few second I would be up high enough that I could pull my own body weight onto the ledge.

Through the rounds of the machine guns, I heard another shot ring out as something whizzed right past my head. I couldn't immediately tell where it came from, but then I saw movement in the pile of dead bodies. Officer Williams had used his final ounce of strength to sit up and aim at the Joker one last time, and he had finally hit his mark. As Williams fell over dead, I felt the Joker's grasp on me slip. Williams had shot the Joker in the abdomen, and as he reeled from the pain his grasp on me slipped. I dropped a few feet, and was in the middle of saying my goodbyes when two hands caught my wrists.

As the shootout went on below, the Joker used every bit of strength that he had to pull me up. I could hear him yelling in pain as he struggled to lift me up, and I could feel his muscles shaking from prolonged use, my weight, and most likely from pain as well. He moaned in agony as I felt my back finally touch the balcony floor. I was able to scoot up all the way onto the ledge on my own. When I was safe, he finally dropped my wrists and went crashing to the floor. He rolled onto his back and let out a staccato breath as he tried to control his pain.

"You... saved me!" I gasped, crawling to his side.

"Don't sound so surprised," he chuckled.

Downstairs, I could hear the final showdown between the cops and criminals end. The police had run out of ammunition, and Norgard had quickly dispatched both of them as they tried to run to their cop cars. The men began to split up and finish the job. Stanton and the skinny guy from the van raced up to the balcony to see what was wrong with the Joker. A handful went through the pile of police, grabbing radios, guns, bullets, and whatever else of value they had on them. Norgard ran out to a police car to listen to the police scanner. I could vaguely hear him call in a request for all backup at a random location in the city, and a plea for Batman as well. Hopefully with Batman busy, we would have time to clear out of the warehouse.

I stayed next to the Joker, who was being looked at by Stanton.

"Do something!" I screamed. "You fixed it once right? You can do it again! It's not that serious, is it?" I asked frantically.

"There's nothing I can do without a medical facility, and no hospital near Gotham is going to take him in. Even a hospital in the suburbs would recognize him. No, if he's gonna get help, it has to be at least a few states away, somewhere remote, where no one would recognize him. He doesn't have too big of a name outside of Gotham. But even if we found a place where no one recognized him," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "there's no way we could get him anywhere soon enough to save him. He hasn't got much longer without medical care, and there is no way we can even think of getting outside of the Gotham city limits before he… ya know…"

I bit my lip to keep from crying. There had to be a way to save him, but I couldn't think of anything. Even using the highway wouldn't be fast enough- but what was faster than a speeding car? If only we didn't have to drive on the roads…

The idea that came to me was sudden, stupid, and entirely worth a shot. I stood up and looked around at the men.

"I need a phone right now!" I yelled.

"Here!" said the skinny guy kneeling next to me.

"Thanks, ah…" I trailed off. Wow, I really needed to learn some names around here.

"Dante." He answered.

"Yeah, thanks Dante…" I said absently as I dialed a number on his phone. I had found this private number written on a post it note on Gordons desk in the MCU, and had committed it to memory in case I ever needed it. Well, now was the time.

The phone rang only once before someone answered it.

"Hello?" said the voice on the other end of the line.

"Is this Harvey Dent?" I asked.

"Yes, may I ask who's calling?"

"Hey, Daddy. Take a wild guess."

Four blackmail threats, three reminders of how much a love child would ruin his career, two fake promises to expose him, and a few minutes later, I had struck a deal with Dent. In exchange for not going public about my who my real parents were, Dent would send one military issue medical chopper to the warehouse district, dock 15, set to land in 15 minutes. All I had to do was never bother him again. I figured it would be easy enough, seeing as I had gotten through t hast 16 years of my life without him.

I didn't trust anyone Dent might send to fly the helicopter, so I asked around to see if anyone had any skill with flying. To my surprise, Norgard had spent four years as a helicopter pilot overseas, which meant that we didn't have to trust a random pilot we didn't know.

The wait for the chopper was unbearable. I switched off between hovering over the Joker and hovering over Stanton. He had managed to clean up some of the blood around the wound, but I could see even without a medical degree that the bullet had hit something vital inside the Joker. The Joker himself floated between consciousness and unconsciousness, mumbling a few garbled words every now and then, but mostly just trying to breathe. My focus on the Joker was broken when Dante tapped me on the shoulder.

"Uh, are you done with my phone yet?" he asked apprehensively.

I realized I had been squeezing it in my fist for the past few minutes. I released it and handed it back to him. I turned back towards the Joker, but he stopped me.

"You're Dent's kid. Aren't you? And your mother, she's Diana Maroni, isn't she? Sorry, I heard you on the phone."

"Yeah, but…. Sorry, but why do you care?" I tried my hardest not to sound rude, but I had more important things on my mind right now.

"My mother is Diana Maroni, too. I guess that would make you my half-sister," he said.

I looked at him with a blank stare for a few seconds, taking it in.

"Small world…" I said vaguely, giving him a small smile.

Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of a chopper approaching overhead. There were men scrambling left and right. Dante grabbed a few duffel bags and carried them to the door, while a few men put a makeshift stretcher- made from a wood board and couch cushions-under the Joker and carried him downstairs.

As soon as the chopper landed, Norgard forced the pilot at gunpoint to cuff himself to a nearby police car. Norgard sat in the pilot's seat and became familiar with the controls, while Dante and Stanton loaded the Joker into the chopper. Dante gave me a hand, and I was lifted in too.

"Head north, towards the mountains. More isolation there!" I yelled at Norgard over the roar of the blades. He nodded and we took off, ascending high enough to clear the warehouse.

"What will happen to them?" I asked Dante, nodding out the window to the remaining men gathered outside of the warehouse.

"They'll take their money and guns, and go back to the gangs and mob bosses and alleyways they came from. And wait. The Joker will return. If there's one thing we all know about the Joker, it's this: he's not done with Gotham. Not yet."

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Sooooo, I hope you liked it! I certainly enjoyed writing it and reading all of your comments! I'm not quiet done yet! There will be an **EPILOGUE TOMMOROW!,** I promise! And I will finally announce my plans for my **next story**! Stay tuned, stay reading, **but don't you dare stay serious**!


	16. Epilogue

Finally, we've reached the end! Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed! It means so much to me that so many people read this story:) Please enjoy! And don't forget to read my note at the end for an announcement... :)

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Northfield General Hospital was the only hospital in the small town of Northfield, population: 11,012. It was a quiet hospital, a small one by city standards, but it had one of the best doctors in the county. The main surgeon there was Dr. Whitman, a prestigious man who, despite his amazing abilities as a surgeon, refused to practice anywhere but Northfield, where he was born and raised. Northfield General usually dealt with the effects of a small town: kids with broken arms and bee stings in the summer, a wave of flu in February, and the slew of drunk teenagers that came in on the weekends. Rarely did it have any real emergencies, aside from the occasional car crash. Very rarely did it ever have anyone transported to the hospital by helicopter. And never had they had a man in a purple suit and face paint rushed into the ER with two bullet wounds. But there's a first time for everything.

Jessie, the youngest nurse at Northfield, watched a group of five people come in. One of them was carrying a limp body. There were three men (not counting the victim) and one girl. The three men all had minor injuries, like brusies and scratches, but it was the girl that concerned Jessie. She was crying almost hysterically, and had a frantic look in her eyes that concerned the nurse. Whatever had happened to these people, it was not good.

Doctors rushed past her to assist the men that were carrying in the bloodied body. They got him through the lobby and into a rolling bed, where he was rushed down the hall and through the Critical doors. A few doctors held the group that came in with the victim back from entering the Critical unit. The three men backed off and rested against the wall uncomfortably, but the girl persisted in trying to enter the unit. The doctors were beginning to seem uncomfortable, and one was on the verge of calling over security when Jessie ran over to them.

"Hold on, I'll take her. She's just upset," Jessie said, grabbing the frantic girl by the shoulders and steering her away from the doors.

"Hi, my name is Jessie. The doctor's here are good at what they do, and I'm sure they'll take good care of your friend, ok?"

"O-ok," she said through her tears.

"You look hurt. Can you come with me so I can help you?" The girl nodded. Jessie led the crying girl to a private hospital room and told her to sit down on the bed.

"Ok, sweetie, can you tell me what hurts?" said Jessie.

"I'm fine, really. Is he gonna make it?" said the girl.

"I told you,the doctors are taking care of him. Now, tell me what's wrong with _you_," she answered. When it became apparent to the girl that the nurse wasn't going to take any of her "I'm fine" bullshit, she lifted up a corner of her shirt so the nurse could see a jagged scar in the shape of a J. It had been stitched, but not properly, and Jessie could tell that there was no way it could heal properly at this point. The scar wasn't the only injury Jessie could see; days old bruises, cuts, and scrapes could be seen all up and down the girl's body.

"What happened to you?" asked Jessie.

The girl immediately backed away and became defensive.

"I just got into a fight at school. Girl thought I was cheating with her boyfriend and knifed me, so I fought her off. It's no big deal. It happens a lot in my town," she said.

Jessie leaned back and sighed. She'd seen this before. There was no way a girl fight had caused her all of this harm. And scars just didn't happen to look like perfect J's.

"Look, if it's one of the men out there that's hurting you, you can tell me. We have security guards here- this is a safe place."

"It's not one of them! I told you! Just fix this effin' scar!" she yelled. The initial vulnerability she had shown was replaced by defensiveness and aggression. Jessie backed away a little and mumbled a stunned apology.

"It's ok," said the girl. She didn't seem angry anymore, just tired. Not physically tired, but mentally exhausted. This girl had been through something, and Jessie was going to find out what it was.

An hour later, Jessie had cleaned the girl's wound and sent her back to the waiting room with a bottle of antibiotics. The girl headed on down the hall towards the empty waiting room, save for the three other men that came in with her. Jessie waited a few seconds, and then followed the girl towards the waiting room. She found that by crouching down behind the receptionist's counter, she could see and hear what the group was saying without being seen herself. The skinniest man looked around the room to make sure it was empty, and then leaned in to speak to the girl.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked.

"I've just been talking to a nurse," said the girl, showing him her bottle of pills.

"What did you tell her?" he demanded.

"Nothing! I swear. Not a thing."

"Good. The boss is in surgery, and he's expected to recover quickly. He gets out of surgery at midnight, and they're gonna keep him here for about five days or so just to make sure he's healing."

"Oh thank God…" said the girl. The look of relief on her face was evident, and Jessie guessed that she had feelings for the man in surgery right now.

The skinny guy turned to the rest of the group. "We need to talk. People are going to ask questions soon, and we need to have answers. This is the story. We are part of the War Veteran's Carnival in our hometown. We-"

"Where exactly is this hometown?" interrupted one of the bigger men.

"Uh….. Spruceton, in Willow County." Said the skinny guy. This was met by a chorus of complaints from the others.

"Spruceton? That doesn't even sound like a real word!" complained the girl.

"It doesn't exactly roll off the tongue…" agreed the big man.

The skinny guy glared at everyone until there was silence before continuing on.

"As I was saying, we are in the War Veteran's carnival in Spruceton. We put on a carnival made up of Spruceton- bred war vets every year. We have the whole shebang- little rides, blowup houses, mimes, and-"

"Clowns!" exclaimed the girl.

"Exactly. This is where the boss comes in. We'll say he was part of the carnival, and after a few guys went out to have some drinks and show each other their guns. Things got a little outta hand, a fight started, and the clown got two bullets in him. Now, in little Spruceton, there's no surgeon at the hospital. So Norgard over here, being part of the air force, used one of the helicopters on display at the carnival to lift him to the next biggest hospital, Northfield. Ok? Any question?"

The two big men and the girl were silent for a few seconds, and then they exploded with questions.

"So, how do we explain the scar on the Joker's face? They're bound to see that!"

"Where exactly is Spruceton? Like, if you had a map, could you theoretically show me where Spruceton is?"

"If someone shot the Joker at a bar, wouldn't they make us file a report or something?"

"Who exactly is paying for this surgery? I don't think the boss has medical insurance…"

"How believable is a war veteran's carnival? Seriously?"

"Does anyone have any ones, cause those chips in that vending machine are calling my name!"

The skinny guy rolled his eyes and reeled off his answers.

"The scar could be a battle wound from war. Spruceton is theoretically located 50 miles north of here. Ok, so then it would be an accidental shooting. I don't think payment is our biggest problem right now. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing in the world. And for God's sake, Stanton, buy yourself your own damn chips!"

The girl spoke up once more.

"How will the Joker know all of this? How do we know he's not gonna attack the first person he sees when he wakes up? We need to find a way to let him know the plan."

"You tell him the second he wakes up. Is everyone happy now?" said the skinny guy.

No one answered; everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts.

He settled down in his chair and mumbled, "I'll take that as a yes…"

Jessie arrived at Northfield the next morning. Her shift last night had ended at twelve, right when the mysterious man had been rolled out of a successful surgery and set up in a private room. She went home and tossed and turned, wondering what the conversation she had overheard meant. From what she gathered, the group was working for the injured man, and he was dangerous. But beyond that, Jessie didn't even want to speculate.

She walked in, checked her room assignments, and saw with displeasure that DOE, JOHN had been assigned to her. She could only guess whose room that was. She sighed and headed to room 112, where she found the door wide open. The girl from last night was sleeping in the armchair next to the patient, who was still soundly asleep from the pain meds from his surgery. According to the nurse on the late night shift, he had stirred only once to eat a thing of ice chips and mumble incoherently about something made of lace.

The girl woke up with a start and eyed the nurse suspiciously.

"I'm the nurse assigned to this patient. My name is Nurse Jessie, remember?" she tried her hardest to be friendly. The more at ease this girl was, the more the nurse hoped she would tell her.

"Hey, I remember you. Sorry about yesterday, I was a little… upset," said the girl. She looked better than yesterday, but she kept on casting concerned glances at the man in the hospital bed.

Jessie moved around the room, checking things like the IV and heart rate.

"Where are your friends?" Jessie asked.

"Out getting food," came the short reply.

"I don't believe I caught your name yesterday," Jessie said.

"I know," said the girl with a small smile.

The room was silent for a minute as Jessie continued on with her work. Finally the girl spoke up.

"I know you heard us last night. I saw you hiding behind the counter…. You could have gone to the police. You should have gone to the police- but you didn't. Why?" she asked.

Jessie froze like a deer in headlights, torn between the urge to confront the girl or run away screaming to the police. She turned slowly to the door, closed it, and pulled up a plastic chair next to the girl.

"I wanted to give you a chance to explain. I think you are innocent, that you were dragged into all of this. We could go to the police together and-"

The girl cut her off. "Have you ever been in love? Not a crush, or a boyfriend, or a big diamond engagement ring. Pure, simple, completely messed up love? To hell with roses and love letters- I'm talking about sacrifice, devotion."

Jessie nodded slowly. "I have a husband- Tony. We've been married for two years now."

"What would you do for him? Would you lie for him? Cheat for him? Kill for him? Would you die for him? If it came down to it, would you do anything for him?" she asked, her jaw shaking slightly as she held back the emotion in her voice.

"I… I guess so, yeah." Said Jessie.

"Then please, let me do this for him. Don't tell anyone what you know. Let me stay with him, let him recover. Please. Wouldn't you want someone to do this for you and your husband?" she pleaded.

Jessie had seen many people in pain since she had started working at the hospital. She had seen woman crying out in childbirth, inconsolable babies with sickness, grown men brought to tears from the pain of a car crash. But all of the pain she had seen was incomparable to the pain of a girl in love whose world was hanging on a thread.

"I won't tell anyone anything. That's all I can promise you," said Jessie.

"Thank you," said the girl, a tear finally streaming down her face.

Jessie walked out of the room, holding in a few tears of her own.

The early morning passed uneventfully. The three men came back from their morning food run and settled awkwardly in the waiting room chairs, absently watching the news on the small TV and reading the only magazine the hospital supplied: Us Weekly.

At nine, Jessie took her first break of the day. She went to the break room, grabbed a coke from the mini fridge, and settled down on a couch in front of the TV next to Hailey and Jacob, two of her fellow nurses.

"Hey, Jess. Jacob and I were just talking about the helicopter people that landed yesterday- that thing's still parked out in the front lot. I heard they came through your unit!" said Hailey excitedly.

"Yeah, they did. Nothing too exciting- just an accidental gunshot wound." Jess answered. She desperately wanted to change the subject.

"Yeah, that's what I heard too!" said Jacob. "I saw the group this morning- did you get a load of the two big guys? Looked like they were spoon-fed steroids when they were kids. And the gunshot victim? I heard he had this huge scar going all the way across his mouth!" said Jacob in awe.

"Yeah, it's a war wound." Said Jessie. "Hey, so how is the Natal unit doing, Hailey?"

"Good, that lady had her twins last night. Damn, I wish I was in Critical last night. Nothing exciting ever happens in Natal…" lamented Hailey.

Jessie laughed. "Believe me, you did not want to be in Critical last night."

"Well it would have been so-"

Jacob cut in loudly. "Wait guys, look at the news. Aren't those the guys that came in last night?"

Jessie turned to the screen apprehensively. Three sketches were up on the screen, and they were of the three men in the waiting room. Jacob turned up the TV and the room fell silent as everyone turned their attention the reporter.

"We have a breaking national news. These men are wanted by the Gotham Police Department in connection to the murder of 25 police officers yesterday in Gotham city. They are known accomplices of the Joker, a very dangerous mass murderer known to be operating in Gotham, who has very recently gained national recognition."

There was an audible gasp in the room as a picture of the Joker showed up on screen. The man's scar confirmed what everyone already guessed: the gunshot victim was in fact a criminal.

"If seen, do not approach these men. Contact your local authorities immediately. We go now to Gale Westings, who is on location in Gotham, for more information. Gale?

"Thank you, Tim. The sketches were made with the help of a witness who was left chained at the crime scene. We are also receiving reports that the Joker and these men may have kidnapped a girl, whose name has yet to be released. The Gotham Police Department…"

Jessie stopped listening. She got up and ran from the room before any of her other colleagues could react. She raced down the hall towards room 112, knowing that she had to warn the girl. Jessie wasn't sure if she wanted to tell the girl to run from the police or the Joker, but she knew she had to tell her to run. Jessie reached room 112 and looked in, but to her surprise no one was there.

The room had been raided for every available medical supply, and the bed had been un plugged, the wheels unlocked, and pushed out the door. In the distance, Jessie could hear the roar of a chopper coming to life, and she knew that the girl and the four men would make a clean getaway. A glint of red caught her eye, and Jessie looked over at the armchair. There was a playing card resting on the seat. She rushed over to it and looked at the writing on the back, allowing herself a small smile.

_Thanks for everything_

_By the way, it's Lacey. Nice to meet you too._

She flipped the card over. It was a Joker.

* * *

THE END. So since I've finished this one, I've decided it's time to start another one as soon as possible. Thanks to everyone who shared their thoughts on sequel vs. new story!

In the end, I decided to go with a completly new story! Don't worry, TDK fans, this is still gonna be an OC/Joker story! Cause we all know that's the way to go. :)

VERY SPECIAL THANKS TO ALL WHO REVIEWED! Especially those people who reviewed every chapter- you know who you are! I loved everyone's support and feedback, and I promise you I love returning the favor by checking out your stories too! Please check out my next story, which I plan on having the first chapter, or at least the prologue, up by friday!

love you guys:)

-Rosanna Stone


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